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UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 
LIBRARY 

ILL. 

ClaSS  Book  volume 


ncweiTg 


PEORIA 

BOOK  EXCHANGE 


■  ■ 


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OLD  AND  RARE  BOOKS 

BOUGHT   AND   SOLD 

223  Main  St. 
PEORIA,    ILL. 


I 

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//////      7  //// 


THE  STORY 


AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 


MRS,  GALUSHA  ANDERSON, 


CHICAGO: 

IAN8EN,  McCLURG  &  COMPANY. 
1S«©, 


COPYRIGHT. 

JANS  EN,   McCLURG  &  COMPANY. 
A.  D.  1880. 


STEREOTYPED  AND  PRINTED 


THE  CHICAGO  LEGAL  NEWS  COMPANY. 


REMOTE  STORAGE 


AW 


Mrs.  AMANDA  IRONS, 


'•A TNT    LIZZIES" 
7EIED    AND    FAITHFUL    FRIEND. 


1924 ! 3 


This  woman  was  full  of  good  works  and  alms-deeds  which  she  did. 

—Acts  ix,  36. 

It  is  prodigious  the  quantity  of  good  that  may  be  done  by  one  man, 
if  he  will  but  make  a  business  of  it. 

—Franklin. 
How  far  that  little  candle  throws  his  beams ! 
So  shines  a  good  deed  in  this  naughty  world. 

—Merchant  of  Venice. 

I  have  showed  you  all  things,  how  that  laboring  ye  ought  to  support 

the  weak,  and  to  remember  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how  he  said, 

it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive. 

—Acts  xx,  35. 


CONTENTS; 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Early  Days 9 

II.  Pioneer  Life 26 

III.  Discipline 49 

IV.  "Aunt  Lizzie"       ....  69 
V.  In  the  General  Hospitals     .         .  .99 

YI.  First  Two  Years  in  Chicago   .        .  135 

VII.  In  the  Sunday  School         .         .  .149 

VIII.  Aunt  Lizzie's  Girls'  Meeting        .  165 

IX.  Among  the  Sick         .         .         .  .173 

X.  Labors  Among  the  Poor       .         .  1S4 

XL  Labors  Manifold         .         .        .  .200 

XII.  Prominent  Traits  .         .         .         .  218 


THE    STOEY 

OF 

AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 


CHAPTER    I. 

EARLY    DAYS. 

Though  a  thousand  biographies  of  great  and  good 
men  and  women  have  been  written,  there  is  always 
room  for  another,  for  human  life  is  endless  in  inci- 
dent. Though  the  elements  of  hundreds  of  careers 
are  alike,  the  combinations  into  which  they  are 
cast  are  infinitely  varied. 

The  Bible  and  Shakspeare  are  but  arrangements 
of  the  twenty-six  letters  of  the  alphabet,  yet  who 
would  mistake  the  one  for  the  other  ?  The  beau- 
ties of  the  sunset,  though  always  composed  of 
atmosphere,  cloud  and  sunbeams,  change  every 
day. 

It  has  been  said  that  nature  never  repeats  her- 
self.    This  might  even  more  truly  be  said  of  human 

(9) 


10        THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

life,  and  especially  of  Christian  life,  for  when  the 
Sun  of  Righteousness  pours  his  light  upon  a  hu- 
man soul,  the  effects  are  as  varied  as  those  of  the 
natural  dawn. 

Many  have  thought  that  a  life  so  rich  in  event 
and  work  for  the  Master,  as  that  of  Aunt  Lizzie 
has  been,  should  not  pass  away  without  some  re- 
cord. Her  early  life  in  the  "West,  while  it  was  still 
a  new  country  ;  her  labors  as  hospital  nurse  dur- 
ing the  war,  and  as  missionary  in  the  city  of 
Chicago,  have  each  their  separate  interest.  This 
book  is  written,  not  only  to  tell  the  story  of  a  noble 
life,  but  also  that  other  workers  in  the  great  field 
of  humanity  may  take  courage  from  the  varied  ex- 
periences and  gathered  wisdom  of  a  veteran. 

Eliza  1ST.  Atherton  was  born  March  24£h,  1^17, 
at  the  house  of  her  maternal  grandfather  in  Auburn, 
Cayuga  county,  Xew  York.  Her  mother,  whose 
maiden  name  was  Deborah  "Ward,  was  the  favorite 
daughter  in  a  large  family  of  sisters  and  brothers. 
There  is  often  in  such  families  one  daughter,  who 
from  greater  amiability  of  disposition  and  intense 
filial  affection  clings  closer  than  the  rest  to  the  pa- 
ternal home,  and  returns  at  every  opportunity  to 
spend  a  few  more  delightful  days  with  her  parents. 
Such  a  daughter  Deborah  Atherton  appears  to  have 
been.  Although  her  home  was  in  Albany,  her  older 
children  were  born  at  her  father's  house,  and  we  find 
her  often  there  on  visits. 


EARLY  DAYS.  11 


Thus  it  happened  that  little  Eliza,  or  Lizzie,  as 
she  has  always  been  called,  had  two  homes  during 
the  first  years  of  her  life,  being  first  with  her  mother 
in  Albany,  and  again  spending  months  at  a  time 
with  her  grandparents  at  Auburn. 

John  'Ward  of  Auburn,  demands  more  than  a 
passing  notice  on  account  of  the  moulding  influence 
that  he  exerted  on  the  character  of  his  grand- 
daughter. Descended  from  a  New  England  family 
which  had  given  General  Artemus  Ward  to  the 
revolutionary  army,  he  settled  in  Auburn  prior  to 
1S17,  coming  there  from  a  farm  in  the  vicinity. 
When  the  little  Baptist  church  was  formed,  he  was 
one  of  its  constituent  members.  Always  a  lovely 
and  consistent  Christian,  he  shone  as  a  light  set  on 
a  candlestick  among  his  kinsfolk  and  acquaintance, 
and  the  earliest  religious  training,  and  afterward 
the  conversion  of  Lizzie  Atherton  were  due,  under 
God,  largely  to  her  grandfather. 

Indeed  one  of  her  earliest  recollections  is  that  of 
standing  beside  him,  singing  the  old  hymns  which 
he  loved,  in  the  Court  House,  where  the  Baptists 
at  first  assembled  for  both  church  and  Sunday-school 
services.  He  had  a  good  ear  for  music  and  a  sweet 
voice,  and  delighted  to  train  his  favorite  little 
granddaughter  in  singing.  It  was  in  a  measure 
from  his  instruction  and  example  that  she  acquired 
the  habit  of  comforting  the  sick  and  the  dying  by 


V2        THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

the  songs  of  a  better  land, — a  habit,  how  valuable 
and  consolatory  the  wounded  from  many  a  battle- 
field could  testify.  At  his  house  she  was  perfectly 
happy.  Her  impulsive  affection  had  from  him  a 
return  that  caused  it  to  unfold  like  a  flower  in  the 
sunshine. 

She  is  remembered  by  old  residents  of  Auburn 
as  a  happy  little  girl,  always  singing  about  her  play, 
tender  and  loving  to  the  little  ones  among  the  chil- 
dren with  whom  she  associated,  trndffinsr  off  to 
school  in  the  morning  as  cheerfully  as  to  her  sports. 
When  her  sister  Fanny  was  born,  a  feeble  child  who 
could  not  walk  till  she  was  three  or  four  years  old, 
Lizzie  took  her  at  once  into  her  heart  and  almost 
idolized  her.  Being  six  years  older,  she  felt  like  a 
little  mother,  and  nursed  and  tended  the  baby  with 
the  greatest  devotion. 

If  Lizzie  were  happy  in  Auburn  she  was  no  less 
so  in  Albany.  Few  see  a  more  delightful  child- 
hood. She  attended  a  school  kept  by  Mrs.  Murray, 
a  lovely  woman,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  her 
mother.  Once  a  week  she  was  taken  to  amuse  her- 
self at  the  old  museum,  and  sometimes  on  Sunday, 
walked  with  her  parents  in  what  was  called  "Jimmy 
Cane's  walk,"  the  gardens  of  an  old  Mansion  House, 
that  had  survived  from  early  times.  What  a  de- 
light were  these  strolls  to  the  susceptible  child. 
Every  flower  that  bloomed,  every  bird  that  sang, 


EARLY  DAYS.  13 


found  its  way  into  her  heart,  and  has  retained  a 
place  in  her  memory  all  these  years. 

One  of  Lizzie's  greatest  delights  was  to  sit  in  the 
old  First  Baptist  church,  and  listen  to  her  mother 
sin £i  112  counter  in  the  choir.  Deborah  Atherton 
inherited  her  father's  sweet  voice,  and  to  her  little 
daughter  it  sounded  almost  like  the  music  of  the 
angels.  Not  often  do  mother  and  child  love  and 
cling  to  each  other  as  these  did.  A  perfect  har- 
mony seems  always  to  have  existed  between  them, 
not  only  outward,  but  also  even  in  their  thoughts. 
The  mother  cherished  and  appreciated  her  child,  and 
the  daughter,  as  she  grew  older,  gradually  became 
the  stay  of  her  mother's  failing  health. 

"When  Lizzie  was  about  seven  years  old,  her  fath- 
er took  her  with  him  to  Xew  York,  whither  he 
went  to  buy  goods.  Such  a  trip  was  quite  a  jour- 
ney in  those  days  of  slow  travel,  and  was  doubly 
interesting  because  the  puffing  little  steamboat  on 
which  they  went  was,  even  then,  still  one  of  the 
novelties  of  the  Xew  World. 

They  stayed  some  days  in  Xew  York,  and  on 
their  return  home  Lizzie  surprised  her  inotherby  ap- 
pearing in  a  red  cloak  and  hat,  the  hat  made  doubly 
line  by  a  long  white  feather. 

In  March,  1826,  an  event  occurred  which  changed 
the  whole  current  of  Lizzie's  life.  This  was  the 
death  of  her  grandfather,  Jonathan  Atherton,  of 


14         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

Cavendish,  Windsor  county,  Vermont.  He  came 
of  an  English  family  of  Lancashire,  whose  general 
history  can  be  traced  back  for  over  six  hundred 
years.  They  were  eminently  a  knightly  race,  and 
were  allied  with  many  noble  families.  Jonathan 
Atherton  was  born  in  England,  but  came  to  this 
country  after  his  marriage,  and  settled  at  Caven- 
dish, where  he  owned  two  lar^e  a-razing-  farms.  At 
his  death  he  left  the  home  farm  to  Lizzie's  father, 
Steadman  Atherton,  the  youngest  in  a  family  of 
live  children,  with  the  understanding  that  he  should 
make  it  his  home  and  care  for  his  widowed  mother. 
Accordingly,  in  October  of  the  same  year,  having 
wound  up  his  business  in  Albany,  he  removed  to 
Cavendish  with  his  wife  and  two  little  girls,  Lizzie 
being  about  nine  years  old. 

This  was  a  great  change  from  either  the  city  of 
Albany  or  the  town  of  Auburn.  The  farm  lies  ten 
miles  back  from  the  Connecticut  River,  among  the 
beautiful  hills  of  Southern  Vermont.  It  was  a 
little  world  in  itself,  with  three  immense  orchards, 
pastures  for  hundreds  of  sheep,  and  broad  grain 
fields.  The  house,  built  after  the  olden  fashion, 
round  a  stack  of  chimneys  as  large  as  a  good-sized 
room,  was  at  that  time  painted  red,  and  stood  on  the 
top  of  a  hill.  Down  the  slope,  shaded  by  the  glo- 
rious elms  of  New  England,  stretched  a  wide  lawn, 
while   near  the  house,  roses   and    a  multitude  of 


EARLY  DAYS.  15 


other  flowers  made  the  sweet  air  of  the  mountains 
sweeter  vet  by  their  fragrance.  To  the  east  rose  old 
Ascutney,  its  green  sides  dotted  with  farm-houses. 
As  stores,  schools  and  churches  were  three  miles 
away,  the  family  lived  much  by  themselves,  and 
many  of  the  articles  used  on  the  farm  were  manu- 
factured there  as  well.  The  chief  delight  of  lit- 
tie  Eliza  was  to  linger  in  the  wood-house  chamber 
when  the  spinning  and  weaving  were  in  progress, 
or  to  go  to  the  "  shop"  where  all  the  mysteries  of 
making  sausages,  soap,  and  a  hundred  other  things 
could  be  seen,  each  in  its  season.  Sheep-barns  and 
cattle-barns  made  grand  play-houses  in  stormy 
weather. 

But  though  the  place  was  so  delightful,  and  the 
amusements  so  varied,  the  real  discipline  of  life  began 
just  here  for  both  Deborah  Atherton  and  her  daugh- 
ter. Grandmother  Atherton  was  a  trim  little  En- 
glish woman,  with  white  mob-cap  and  spotless  ker- 
chief, proud  of  her  family  and  her  good  house-keep- 
ing. She  held  very  different  ideas  about  the  man- 
agement of  the  affairs  of  both  house  and  farm  from 
her  town-bred  daughter-in-law.  Youn^  Mrs.  Ath- 
erton  did  not  know  how  to  spin  or  to  weave,  to  make 
head-cheese  or  sausages,  to  see  that  the  wild  plums 
were  gathered  for  preserves,  or  the  cherries  made  in- 
to cherry-bounce.  But  all  these  things  were  a  small 
part  of  the  work  of  the  farm  and  were  a  great  bur- 


16         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

den  to  a  person  in  feeble  health,  when  added  to  the 
care  of  her  many  little  children;  there  were  ten  in 
all. 

Lizzie's  trials  were  of  a  different  kind,  but  equal- 
ly severe.  Her  grandmother  looked  upon  her  name- 
sake as  a  spoiled  child, — a  petted  one  she  certainly 
was.  She  therefore  undertook  to  train  her  in  the 
way  she  should  go,  and  many  a  severe  look  and 
little  scolding  fell  to  the  share  of  the  sensitive 
child.  Xo  doubt  it  was  all  intended  for  her  good, 
and,  in  God's  wise  purpose,  it  no  doubt  resulted  in 
good  to  her,  but  the  first  effect  was  almost  to  break 
her  heart.  She  could  hardly  eat  if  Grandmother 
were  looking  at  her,  and  cried  herself  nearly  ill 
about  it.  Thus  mother  and  child  were  drawn  closer 
than  ever  together,  and  shared  their  troubles.  In 
endeavoring  to  help  the  parent,  who  was  so  dear  to 
her,  Lizzie  learned  many  things  which  proved  of 
inestimable  value  to  her  afterwards. 

Still,  in  spite  of  her  trials  with  her  grandmother's 
old  fashioned  discipline,  Lizzie,  after  she  grew  a 
little  used  to  it,  lived  a  very  happy  life  at  Caven- 
dish. Three  miles  away,  on  the  other  farm,  lived 
her  uncle  Jonathan  Atherton  and  his  wife,  Aunt 
Roxy,  for  whom  one  of  Lizzie's  little  sisters  was 
named.  "With  the  children  of  this  family  she  en- 
joyed most  delightful  intercourse.  She  also  made 
frequent  visits  to  a  little  village  called  Greenbush, 


EARLY  DAYS.  17 


wliicli  nestles  under  the  very  shadow  of  old  Ascut- 
ney,  and  which  is  illuminated  by  the  happiest 
memories.  Here  with  her  three  cousins,  the  daugh- 
ters of  Mrs.  Olive  Atherton,  many  of  the  golden 
hours  of  Lizzie's  youth  were  passed. 

Through  the  winter  Lizzie  went  to  school,  always 
loving  to  learn  and  standing  at  the  head  in  the  spel- 
ling and  geography  classes,  but,  poor  child,  away 
down  at  the  foot  in  arithmetic,  which  she  hated.  In 
the  spring  there  were  endless  violets  and  houstonia 
in  the  wide  meadows,  and  lambs  in  the  pastures,  to 
see  which  Lizzie  climbed  fences  even  at  the  risk  of 
a  torn  frock,  and  a  bit  of  reproof  from  her  grand- 
mother. 

In  the  Autumn  of  1S29,  Mrs.  Atherton  was  called 
to  Auburn  by  the  failing  health  of  her  father,  and 
took  Lizzie  with  her  ;  for  her  grandfather  wished  to 
see  his  favorite  once  more.  He  gradually  became 
weaker,  until  on  the  afternoon  of  the  fourth  of  Oc- 
tober, the  family  were  called  in  to  see  him  die. 
Even  in  that  supreme  hour  the  good  man  did  not 
think  of  himself.  His  peace  had  long  ago  been 
made  with  God.  Being  assured  of  a  happy  future 
through  Christ,  he  had 

"  A  heart  at  leisure  from  itself,  " 
to  think  of  the  good  of  others.     And  so  when  Liz- 
zie threw  herself  upon  his  bed  in  a  paroxysm  of  tears, 
with  all  a  child's  abandonment  of  grief,  his  thought 


18         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

was  "  liow  can  I  leave  this  pet  lamb  of  mine  till  she  is 
safe  in  the  fold  of  the  great  Shepherd."  He  resolv- 
ed to  make  one  more  effort  to  lead  her  to  the  Savior. 

"  Sing,"  he  said,  "  sing,  Lizzie,  of  Jesus,  sing 
something  that  grandpa  loves." 

Choking  down  the  sobs,  the  little  girl  began  the 
hymn  they  had  so  often  sung  together  in  the  even- 
ing twilight, 

"  Jesus,  the  vision  of  thy  face 

Hath  overpowering  charms. 
Scarce  shall  I  feel  death's  cold  embrace, 
If  Christ  be  in  my  arms/' 

"What  made  you  think  of  that?"  asked  the  dy- 
ing saint. 

"Because  you  love  it,"  answered  Lizzie. 

"Don't  you  love  Jesus?"  was  the  next  question. 

"£To,  sir." 

u  What  makes  you  think  that  you  do  not?" 

"Because,"  answered  the  conscience-stricken 
child,  "  because  I  do  not  keep  his  commandments." 

Once  more  came  the  question,  asked  with  flutter- 
ing breath,  "Don't  you  want  to  love  Him?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  Lizzie,  "but  I  don't  know 
how." 

Her  grandfather  laid  his  cold  hand  on  her  head, 
and  repeated  again  and  again  the  words,  "  only 
trust  Him,  only  trust  Him,"  till  his  voice  was  hushed 
in  death.     Surely  John  Ward  was  faithful  even  in 


EARLY  DAYS.  19 


death,  and  went  to  receive  a  crown  of  life.  His 
last  wish  was  granted.  Lizzie  did  trust  Jesus  then, 
and  her  grandfather  no  doubt  took  to  heaven  with 
him  the  blessed  knowledge  that,  as  he  laid  down 
the  standard  of  the  cross,  his  precious  grandchild 
took  it  up  to  bear  it  after  him. 

Enthusiastic  in  religion  as  in  everything  else,  Liz 
zie  was  full  of  joy,  even  in  the  midst  of  her  sorrow, 
and  attended  the  funeral  looking  beyond  the  coffin 
and  the  grave,  and  feeling  the  presence  of  Jesus  a 
sufficient  comfort. 

The  whole  town  turned  out  to  show  their  appre- 
ciation of  the  good  man  who  had  left  them.  The 
funeral  was  held  in  the  Baptist  church,  that  he  had 
helped  to  build,  and  his  fellow  deacons  were  the  pall 
bearers.  Other  men  in  Auburn  had  perhaps  been 
more  successful  in  building  up  fortunes,  but  none 
succeeded  better  in  building  a  character.  He  was 
known  and  loved  by  everybody  on  account  of  his 
Christian  worth. 

The  impression  made  by  her  grandfather's  death 
never  left  Lizzie's  heart.  There  has  been  no  time 
of  darkness  and  desolation  since,  when  she  has  not 
felt  the  old  man's  hand  upon  her  head,  and  heard 
his  dying  voice  repeating  softly,  "  only  trust  Him, 
only  trust  Him."     "A  word  spoken  in  due  season, 


how  good  it  is!" 

When  Mrs.  Atherton  returned  to  Vermont,  she 


20         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIRES. 

left  Lizzie  to  be  a  comfort  to  her  Grandmother  "Ward. 
In  December,  though  the  weather  was  so  cold  that 
the  ice  had  to  be  cut  for  the  purpose.  Lizzie  Ather- 
ton  was  baptized  by  Elder  John  Blain,  and  joined 
the  Baptist  church  of  Auburn. 

She  experienced  in  her  early  religious  life  great 
joy  in  her  faith,  and  it  was  not  a  faith  which  could 
only  manifest  itself  in  joy,  but  one  which  brought 
forth  the  fruit  of  good  works.  She  began  at  once  to 
feel  a  strong  sense  of  her  obligation  to  the  church 
of  God,  a  feeling  which  has  always  had  its  restrain- 
ing influence  over  her.  Her  love  for  the  gatherings 
of  God's  people  was  no  evanescent  emotion,  strong 
at  first  and  entirely  disappearing  in  a  few  months, 
but  the  outgrowth  of  a  Christian  conscientiousness, 
which  made  her  duty  and  her  pleasure  one  and  the 
game.  This  strong  religious  nature,  strengthened 
and  directed  by  her  faith  in  Christ,  prevented  her 
from  feeling  the  temptations  toward  worldliness 
that  beset  some.  Even  in  her  girlhood,  the  theatre 
and  kindred  pleasures  had  no  attraction  for  her. 
When  invited  to  attend  such  places  of  amusement, 
she  always  replied,  "I  do  not  wish  to  go;  it  is  not 
consistent  with  my  religious  profession.''  I  would 
not  present  Aunt  Lizzie  as  the  one  perfect  woman 
in  the  world.  Xo  doubt,  like  us  all,  she  has  her 
faults,  but  in  this  respect,  I  would  point  to  her 
shining  example,  and  recommend  it  to  the  multi- 


EARLY  DAYS.  21 


tude  of  young  Christians  in  our  day,  who  act,  alas, 
so  often  from  impulse,  rather  than  from  principle 
in  matters  of  recreation. 

During  this  winter  she  attended  the  school  of 
Miss  Miriam  Evarts,  an  earnest  Christian  lady,  un- 
der whose  tuition  she  grew  in  grace  as  well  as  in 
knowledge. 

In  the  spring  she  returned  to  Cavendish,  accom- 
panied by  her  Grandmother  Ward,  who  remained 
all  summer,  on  a  visit.  This  grandmother  trained 
Lizzie  in  singing,  teaching  her  many  Scotch  songs, 
and  was  much  interested  in  the  farm,  and  the  quaint 
old  people  who  helped  carry  it  on.  These  were  Ben 
Cummins  and  his  wife,  dignified  by  the  titles  of 
Uncle  and  Auntie,  both  of  them  delightful  compa- 
ny for  the  young  folks  of  the  family.  Uncle  Ben 
tended  the  cattle  during  the  day,  but  in  the  eve- 
ning he  could  be  found  beside  the  shop-room  fire, 
popping  corn  for  the  children  and  telling  long- 
winded  stories  that  never  failed  to  be  amusing. 
His  wife  spun  and  wove  carpets  and  coverlets,  quilt- 
ed and  knit,  and  was  as  entertaining  as  she  was 
useful. 

There  was  also  a  dairy-woman,  called  Aunt  Kit- 
ty, a  precise  old  maid,  whose  bonnet  strings  were 
always  tied  by  rule.  She  was  a  devoted  Christian, 
and  very  regular  in  her  attendance  at  church.  One 
snowy  day  she  picked  her  way  down  a  long,  snowy 


22        THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

hill, — the  little  foot-stove,  that  was  to  be  her  solace 
during  service  in  the  cold  church,  in  her  hand. 
Some  gay  horses  passing  by  frightened  her  so  much 
that,  stepping  aside  into  a  drift,  she  fell.  The  stove 
flew  off  in  one  direction,  and  her  hymn  book  in  an- 
other, her  carefully  pinned  wshawl  blew  away,  and 
altogether,  for  so  particular  a  person,  she  was  in  a 
sad  plight.  Lizzie,  like  a  naughty  child,  stood  by 
and  laughed,  to  the  great  discomfiture  of  Aunt 
Hitty,  instead  of  giving  her  the  helping  hand,  and 
thus  gained  for  herself  a  long  scolding,  not  only  for 
allowing  her  sense  of  the  ludicrous  to  get  the  bet- 
ter of  her,  but  much  more  for  doing  so  on  Sun- 
day. 

Lizzie  spent  the  summer  of  1831  in  Albion,  New 
York,  with  the  family  of  her  mother's  brother,  Mr. 
Alexis  Ward.  It  was  at  first  arranged  that  she 
should  remain  there  during  the  next  winter  and  at- 
tend the  excellent  school  kept  by  Miss  Phipps,  but 
her  uncle  changed  his  plans,  broke  up  housekeep- 
ing and  went  to  Europe;  so  Lizzie  returned  home. 
This  was  a  source  of  great  regret  and  of  many  bit- 
ter tears.  Aunt  Lizzie  feels  to  this  day  that  her 
usefulness  in  life  might  have  been  greatly  increased 
could  she  have  had  the  advantages  of  a  more  ex- 
tended education.  But  God  knows  best.  He  trains 
his  children  according  to  the  pattern  in  the  mount, 
and  fits  each  one  of  us  for  the  niche  he  intends  us 


EARLY  DAYS.  23 


to  fill.  Greater  culture  might  have  polished  off  the 
edge  of  that  intense  sympathy  which  makes  the 
poorest  and  most  degraded  sure  that  Aunt  Lizzie 
not  only  pities,  but  also  sorrows  with  them. 

After  this  time  Lizzie  did  not  re-visit  Auburn. 
She  left  with  much  regret  the  church  which  had 
given  her  true  christian  care.  She  would  no  doubt 
have  been  still  more  homesick  had  not  the  pastor 
of  the  Cavendish  church,  Rev.  Joseph  Freeman,  re- 
ceived her  with  great  kindness.  He  was  exceed- 
ingly fond  of  music  and  invited  Lizzie  to  enter  the 
choir.  lie  often  called  upon  her  in  the  prayer  meet- 
ing, by  name,  to  sing  some  appropriate  hymn,  and 
thus  overcame  her  timidity.  Her  love  for  the  church 
led  her  to  join  the  young  ladies'  prayer  meeting, 
where  Mrs.  Freeman  treated  her  with  tender  affec- 
tion, and  thus  the  good  pastor  and  his  wife  joined 
in  training  the  young  girl  for  her  future  work. 

Lizzie  did  not  neglect  the  opportunities  for  Chris- 
tian labor  afforded  by  her  own  home.  She  began 
her  work  as  a  missionary  among  the  men  and  women 
who  labored  on  her  father's  farm.  Her  merry  ways 
and  kind  actions  opened  the  way  to  their  hearts,  and 
her  gentle  words  of  warning  and  invitation  fell 
upon  willing  ears.  Many  remembered,  years  after, 
the  scriptures  read  to  them  by  the  little  girl,  and  the 
hymns  she  delighted  to  sing. 

When  her  daughter  was  about  sixteen  years  old, 


2±        THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

Mrs.  Atherton's  health  failed  entirely.  During  the 
next  four  years,  with  the  exception  of  three  months, 
the  responsibility  of  caring  for  the  large  family  came 
upon  Lizzie.  She  devoted  herself  to  her  mother, 
shielding  her  from  all  unnecessary  anxiety.  At  one 
time,  when  Mrs.  Atherton  seemed  in  a  little  better 
health,  Lizzie  was  sent  to  Cavendish  to  attend  the 
New  England  Academy.  She  boarded  in  the  vil- 
lage, at  a  house  originally  built  for  an  inn,  and 
occupied  an  immense  room  with  seven  other  girls, 
who,  like  herself,  came  to  attend  school.  Once  a 
week,  when  a  messenger  rode  over  from  the  farm 
for  the  mail,  Mrs.  Atherton  sent  Lizzie  a  basket  of 
good  things.  School  girls  are  always  hungry,  and 
we  can  imagine  the  feasts  in  the  old  ball-room, 
when  seven  girls  unloaded  the  hamper  of  fresh 
doughnuts,  cheese  made  at  the  farm,  pumpkin  and 
mince  pies  fresh  from  the  oven,  apple  custards,  jugs 
of  cream,  and  great  sweet  apples.  The  others  came 
from  distant  places,  and  did  not  receive  such  home 
dainties  often,  so  Lizzie  shared  with  them  all,  and 
great  were  the  rejoicings. 

But  her  mother  could  spare  Lizzie  for  only  one 
.term.  Returning  home  she  found  that  her  pres- 
ence was  more  necessary  than  ever.  Even  for  an 
education  she  would  not  leave  her  sick  mother  to 
bear  the  burden  of  the  great  household,  and  the 
oversight  of  the  flock  of  little  children,  so  she  cheer- 


EARLY  DAYS.  25 


fully  put  her  shoulder  to  the  wheel.  It  was  not  a 
work  without  its  reward.  The  companionship  and 
praise  of  one  so  dear  compensated  for  every  sacri- 
fice, made  every  labor  light. 

Phoebe  Cary's  portrait  of  her  mother,  in  her 
"  Order  for  a  Picture,"  paints  better  than  any  prose 
could  do,  Aunt  Lizzie's  recollection  of  her's: 

"  A  lady,  the  loveliest  ever  the  sun 
Looks  down  upon,  you  must  paint  for  me : 
0,  if  I  could  only  make  you  see 
The  clear  blue  eyes,  the  tender  smile, 
The  sovereign  sweetness,  the  gentle  grace, 
The  woman's  soul  and  the  angel's  face 
That  are  beaming  on  me  all  the  while, 
I  need  not  speak  these  foolish  words : 
Yet  one  word  tells  you  all  I  would  say, 
She  is  my  mother:    You  will  agree 
That  all  the  rest  maybe  thrown  away." 


CHAPTEE  II. 

PIONEER  LIFE. 

The  spring  in  which  occurred  Lizzie  Atherton's 
twentieth  birth-day  was  one  of  great  bustle  and  ex- 
citement at  the  farm.  The  eldest  daughter  of  the 
family  was  to  be  married  and  leave  the  dear  old 
home,  to  settle  with  her  husband  in  what  was  then 
considered  the  far  West.  Grandmother  Atherton 
looked  over  her  stores,  and  selected  her  choicest 
silver,  her  old  English  china,  feather-beds,  woollen 
quilts  and  household  linen,  to  start  her  namesake 
in  housekeeping.  She  apparently  considered  that 
her  discipline  had  been  effective,  and  since  Lizzie 
had  submitted  to  her  training,  she  turned  around, 
and,  like  a  fairy  godmother,  showered  upon  her  a 
profusion  of  gifts.  Mr.  Atherton  also  was  busy 
selecting  carpets  and  furniture,  for  were  not  the 
young  couple  going  to  the  wilderness  of  Illinois? 

At  last  on  the  second  of  May,  1837,  Lizzie  Ather- 
ton was  married  to  Cyrus  Aiken.  Mr.  Aiken  was 
nine  years  older  than  his  bride,  a  man  of  a  sedate 
turn  of  mind,  and  Christian  principle,  to  whose 
(26) 


PIONEER  LIFE.  27 


keeping  her  parents  were  very  happy  to  intrust  the 
future  of  their  daughter. 

There  was  a  large  family  gathering  at  the  wed- 
ding, and  when  Lizzie  and  her  husband  left  home  in 
the  afternoon,  they  were  accompanied  by  several  of 
her  friends.  They  rode  over  in  the  quaint  two- 
wheeled  chaises,  then  in  general  use,  to  Mr.  Aiken's 
home  in  Claremont,  Z^ew  Hampshire.  It  was  the 
custom  in  those  days  for  the  family  of  the  bride- 
groom to  give  a  reception  and  feast  called  the  infare, 
to  the  bride  upon  her  arrival  at  her  new  home. 
Lizzie's  infare  was  held  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Aiken's 
father,  built  on  Sugar  Iviver,  near  the  town  of  Clare- 
mont. The  old  gentleman  was  a  master  builder, 
and  had  taken  great  pride  in  the  convenience  and 
beauty  of  his  house.  He  had  even  finished  it  off 
with  mahogany,  even  more  rare  and  costly  than 
at  present.  The  house  stood  in  a  finely  cultiva- 
ted place  of  about  forty  acres,  and  was  built  to 
be  the  home  of  the  family  for  generations.  But 
shortly  before  Lizzie's  marriage  an  uncle  of  Mr.  Cy- 
rus Aiken  had  moved  West,  and  settled  on  Rock 
Eiver  in  Illinois.  He  wrote  home  glowing  accounts 
of  the  country,  and  went  so  far  as  to  buy  eighty 
acres  and  give  it  to  his  nephew,  on  condition  that 
he  would  come  out  and  settle.  The  whole  family 
caught  the  Western  fever,  and  finally  the  place  was 
sold,  when  they  all  removed  to  the  West. 


28        THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

On  Lizzie's  wedding  day,  however,  these  events 
were  yet  in  the  future,  and  the  large  family  were 
gathered  together,  for  the  last  time,  at  the  infare. 
Great  festivities  were  held,  Mr.  Aiken  being  "both 
well-to-do  and  popular,  and  the  day  ended  with  a 
grand  reception  and  supper. 

After  remaining  in  Claremont  a  few  days,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Aiken,  following  the  universal  custom  of 
New  England,  made  their  bridal  trip  to  Boston. 
They  went,  as  there  were  no  railroads,  by  the  great 
lumbering  stage,  making  frequent  stops  for  the  pur- 
pose of  visiting  relatives. 

Their  stay  at  Boston  lasted  only  a  week,  but  was 
crowded  with  pleasure.  This  was  the  first  time  that 
Lizzie  had  ever  seen  the  sea,  and  the  great  ships 
coining  from  every  part  of  the  world.  Boston  in 
those  days  had  a  much  more  extended  commerce 
than  now.  Then  of  course  they  visited  that  Mecca 
of  New  England,  Bunker  Hill,  and  other  places  of 
historic  interest  in  the  vicinity. 

"When  they  again  reached  Vermont,  they  found 
that  Lizzie's  parents  had  packed  all  her  goods  for 
removal. 

After  a  sad  parting  from  her  beloved  family,  and 
one  last  embrace  from  her  mother,  she  turned  away 
from  Cavendish  to  a  life  of  hardship  and  trial. 

The  party  that  crossed  the  mountains  in  the  stage- 
coach for  Whitehall,  consisted  of  Lizzie  and  her 


PIONEER  LIFE.  29 


husband,  his  father  and  sister  with  her  two  little 
children.  Mr.  Aiken,  senior,  came  West  to  spy 
out  the  land  ;  he  afterwards  settled  and  died  in 
Illinois.  The  sister  "came  to  meet  her  husband, 
who  had  already  built  him  a  ]og  house  on  Rock 
River. 

At  "Whitehall  they  took  the  packet  on  the  Erie 
Canal,  the  great  thoroughfare  for  western  bound 
emigrants.  If  this  mode  of  conveyance  has  been 
superseded  by  more  speedy  modes  of  travel,  it  must 
have  been  to  those  who  had  leisure  a  jjleasant  way 
of  seeing  the  country.  Imagine  crossing  the  State 
of  Xew  York  by  a  conveyance  that  gave  one  ample 
time  to  investigate  and  enjoy  the  beauties  of  every 
field  and  hill.  Our  travelers  beguiled  the  tedium 
of  the  journey  by  going  ashore  to  gather  wild  flow- 
ers, or  to  make  purchases  at  the  villages  through 
which  they  passed. 

When  at  last  they  reached  Buffalo,  they  found 
themselves  too  early  for  the  steamer,  and  went  out 
to  Black  Rock,  a  few  miles  from  the  city,  to  visit 
Lizzie's  aunt,  Mrs.  Ann  Ward,  the  widow  of  her 
uncle  Loyal,  who  had  watched  with  great  filial  affec- 
tion over  the  last  days  of  her  Grandfather  Ward,  in 
Auburn.  This  was  Lizzie's  last  visit  among  her 
relatives,  for  a  long  series  of  years.  Like  an  out- 
ward-bound vessel,  she  had  left  home  and  passed 
one  well-known  point  after  another,  till  now  the  last 


30        THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

familiar  headland  faded  from  sight,  and  she  moved 
out  upon  the  broad  expanse  of  the  unknown  sea. 
Happy  it  was  for  her  that  she  was  under  the  guid- 
ance of  a  divine  Pilot,  and  that  her  anchor  of  hope 
was  fastened  above. 

And  now  the  trials  of  the  party  began.  They 
took  the  old  steamer  Detroit,  for  Detroit.  She  was 
not  very  seaworthy  as  they  soon  found,  for  the  sail- 
ors were  kept  at  the  pumps  during  the  whole  voy- 
age. They  encountered  a  heavy  gale,  and  most  of 
the  passengers  were  sick.  Lizzie  having  escaped, 
went  from  one  to  another,  encouraging  them,  and 
singing  to  keep  up  their  spirits.  At  Detroit  they 
were  compelled  to  wait  a  week  for  the  Michigan, 
that  was  to  bring  them  to  Chicago.  Detroit  was 
larger  then  than  Chicago,  crowded  with  emigrants 
and  Indians  buying  and  selling.  On  taking  pos- 
session of  their  rooms  in  the  hotel,  our  party  were 
astonished  to  find  that  there  were  no  locks  nor  other 
fastenings  on  the  doors,  a  circumstance  that  greatly 
disturbed  them,  as  they  carried  their  money  with 
them  in  belts  sewed  around  their  waists.  Lizzie  was 
hardly  asleep  wThen  she  was  awakened  by  the  light 
of  a  lantern  shining  in  her  face.  Starting  up,  she 
cried,  "Who  is  there?"  Two  evil-looking  men 
mumbled  some  excuse  about  having  entered  the 
wrong  room,  and  went  away,  only  to  return  in  an 
hour  or  two.     After  this  had  happened  for  the  third 


PIONEER  LIFE.  31 


time,  she  pushed  the  bed  across  the  door,  and  slept 
no  more  till  morning.  During  the  rest  of  their 
stay  she  barricaded  the  door  every  night. 

As  they  sailed  up  Lake  Michigan,  they  encoun- 
tered another  fearful  gale,  that  drove  them  into 
Milwaukee.  Four  of  the  passengers  were  shaking 
with  ague,  so  Lizzie  turned  nurse  and  hunted  up 
the  huge  medicine  chest  that  her  father  had  fitted 
out  for  her,  a  miniature  apothecary-shop,  full  of  all 
ill-savored  and  bitter  drugs.  They  left  Milwaukee 
on  the  morning  of  a  beautiful  June  day,  but  at  sun- 
down another  sudden  gale  arose  and  the  treacherous 
lake  was  quickly  whipped  into  fury.  All  night  the 
steamer  tossed  and  groaned,  but  could  not  get  into 
port.  No  pen  could  describe  the  sorrowful  com- 
pany that  gathered  on  her  decks  in  the  early  morning 
for  their  first  sie4it  of  Chicago,  the  wonderful  citv 
of  so  many  hopes.  There  it  lay  before  them,  a 
little  patch  of  houses  on  what  is  now  called  the 
North  Side.  As  far  as  eye  could  reach  the  prairie 
was  crossed  by  muddy  roads,  in  which  loads  of 
grain  lay  stranded  like  ships  in  quicksands. 

As  the  boat  readied  Chicago  early  in  the  morn- 
ing the  passengers  were  allowed  no  breakfast,  and 
it  was  nine  o'clock  before  the  solitary  stage  of  the 
town  came  down  to  the  landing.  Mr.  Aiken  se- 
cured two  places  of  the  four  in  this  rude  stage;  no 
more  were  allowed  to  ride  for  fear  of  sinking  the 


32         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

vehicle.  All  the  other  unfortunates  were  obliged 
to  make  their  way  to  the  hotel  over  the  plank  side- 
walks built  on  spiles,  the  water  gurgling  close  un- 
der their  feet  as  they  walked.  Those  who  rode, 
however,  were  no  better  off,  for  hardly  had  they 
gone  a  rod  when  they  found  themselves  settling 
down  into  a  slough,  and  there  the  hungry  travelers 
waited  till  four  burly  fellows  came  to  the  rescue, 
waded  in  knee-deep,  and  pried  them  out.  Three 
such  adventures  in  a  quarter  of  a  mile  so  discour- 
aged Mr.  Aiken,  that  in  spite  of  all  his  wife's  pro- 
testations he  insisted  on  her  getting  out  and  walk- 
ing with  him.  The  natural  consequence  was  that 
they  in  turn  had  to  be  pulled  out  of  the  mud,  amid 
shouts  of  laughter  from  their  companions,  and  to  the 
great  detriment  of  Lizzie's  brown  silk  traveling  suit. 
Their  destination  was  Grand  Detour  on  Rock 
River.  The  only  way  to  reach  it  was  by  wagon,  and 
they  found  a  man  who,  for  a  hundred  dollars,  was  wil- 
ling to  take  them  and  part  of  their  goods  across  the 
prairies.  The  ride  was  a  beautiful  one,  despite  the 
frequent  sloughs.  The  prairies  were  brilliant  with 
blossoms.  Rosy,  yellow,  scarlet  and  white  flowers, 
covering  acres  of  ground,  interspersed  among  the 
waving  grass,  gave  the  country  the  appearance  of  a 
vast  garden.  There  were  no  trees  except  in  the  oak 
openings,  along  the  banks  of  the  streams.  Under 
the  shade  of  these  groves  were  found  the  log  houses 


PIONEER  LIFE.  33 


of  the  settlers,  built  there  on  account  of  the  shade 
and  the  vicinity  of  water.  Every  man's  house  was 
an  inn,  and  the  emigrants  slept  on  the  floors,  some- 
times as  many  as  twenty  women  and  children  in 
one  room,  lying  on  the  mattresses  and  feather-beds 
they  had  brought  with  them.  Our  party  crossed 
Fox  River,  by  fording  it,  and  Lizzie  Aiken,  being  a 
slight  little  body,  weighing  but  ninety  pounds,  was 
perched  on  top  of  the  boxes  as  they  went  over. 

When  they  arrived  at  Grand  Detour,  how  great 
was  their  disappointment  to  find  that  the  village 
they  had  expected  to  see  had  existed  only  on  paper 
and  in  their  own  imaginations.  In  reality  there 
were  only  two  or  three  large  log  houses,  and  one  in 
process  of  building  for  Mr.  Cyrus  Aiken.  In  their 
uncle's  house,  crowded  together  in  two  rooms,  with 
sometimes  as  many  as  twenty -five  in  the  family, 
they  began  their  Western  life. 

After  a  few  weeks  the  new  log  house  was  finished, 
and  Mr.  Aiken  and  his  wife  went  to  take  posses- 
sion. They  soon  found,  however,  that  they  were 
not  the  first  occupants.  When  they  arrived,  at  sun- 
down, they  were  too  weary  to  put  up  beds,  but  slept 
that  night  on  carpets  and  comforters  laid  down  on 
the  floor  of  split  logs.  Waking  in  the  morning, 
Mrs.  Aiken  saw  something  crinkling  along  the  side 
of  the  floor,  and  glancing  in  the  early  sunshine. 
Looking  more  closely,  she  saw,  to  her  horror,  that 


3<±        THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

it  was  a  huge  rattlesnake,  making  himself  as  much 
at  home  as  if  the  house  had  been  built  for  him. 
Their  first  act  of  housekeeping  was  to  kill  this  un- 
welcome guest.  This  having  been  accomplished, 
Mrs.  Aiken  began  to  prepare  such  a  meal  as  was 
possible  under  the  circumstances,  but  when  she  went 
to  the  shelves  nailed  up  on  the  wall,  for  the  bread 
she  had  brought  with  her,  she  found  three  gophers 
complacently  making  their  breakfast  upon  it.  Cer- 
tainly this  was  housekeeping  under  difficulties. 
However,  they  made  a  joke  of  their  misfortunes, 
and  having  disposed  of  rattlesnake  and  gophers, 
went  to  work  cheerfully  to  set  the  house  in  order. 
The  rude  walls  were  papered,  on  the  puncheon  floors 
carpets  were  laid,  and  curtains  hung  at  the  windows. 
The  whole  place  assumed  a  cosy  look  of  comfort 
that  might  have  been  deemed  impossible  the  day 
before.  The  garden,  planted  beforehand,  lay  di- 
rectly on  the  bank  of  Rock  River.  Indian  mounds, 
at  that  season  covered  with  wild  strawberries,  were 
scattered  all  around  on  the  prairies.  Lizzie  could 
stand  in  the  door  and  see  the  trains  of  emigrant 
wagons  crawling  along  the  army  trail,  half  a  mile 
distant.  The  nearest  house  stood  almost  a  mile 
away. 

The  gophers  were  not  their  only  troublesome 
neighbors,  as  the  following  incident  will  show: 
One  day,  shortly  after  their  arrival,  Mr.  Aiken  in- 


PIONEER  LIFE. 


vited  two  young  friends  to  visit  them.  His  wife  of 
course  was  anxious  to  be  hospitable,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  exhibit  her  skill  as  a  housekeeper.  So  she 
stirred  up  some  sponge  cake  and  set  it  to  bake  in  a 
tin  reflector,  another  contrivance  for  cooking  without 
an  oven.  Her  husband  stood  looking  on  while  she 
made  plum  cake.  "  AYhat  can  I  do  to  help? "  asked 
he.  "  You  might  see  if  the  sponge  cake  is  brown- 
ing," was  the  reply.  So,  taking  the  hot,  yet  half- 
baked  cake  from  the  reflector,  he  suddenly  dropped 
it  from  his  burned  fingers,  and  it  fell  all  in  a  heap. 
Still,  Lizzie  made  the  best  of  it,  and  said  cheerfully: 
"  There  is  one  left."  She  counted  without  her  host, 
however.  The  fragrant  brown  loaf  of  plum  cake 
was  put  in  the  window  to  cool  while  she  set  the 
table.  Happening  to  look  at  her  husband,  who 
stood  at  the  door,  she  saw  that  he  was  laughing 
most  heartily.  She  missed  the  cake  from  the  sill, 
and  hastened  to  the  window  just  in  time  to  see  a 
long,  thin  wild  hog,  called  by  the  settlers  a  prairie 
rooter,  roll  down  the  bank  and  swim  across  the 
river,  with  her  warm  cake  held  carefully  out  of  the 
water  in  his  mouth. 

Indeed,  she  seems  to  have  been  unfortunate  in 
entertaining  company.  Some  young  gentlemen 
who  had  purchased  a  claim  beyond  them,  kept 
bachelor's  hall  daring  the  week,  but  came  down  to 
the  Aikens'  on  Sunday,  to  enjoy  the  double  treat  of  a 


36         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

good  talk  and  a  good  dinner.  One  Saturday  after- 
noon, when  her  husband  and  father  were  three  miles 
away,  fencing  in  a  section  which  they  had  bought, 
Mrs.  Aiken  went  out  to  the  Indian  mounds  to 
gather  a  pailfull  of  strawberries  for  Sunday's  dessert. 
She  had  left  her  pantry  full  of  good  things, — new 
bread,  cakes,  pies,  all  the  dainties  that  taste  so  agree- 
ably to  men  who  have  lived  for  a  week  on  fried 
pork  and  crackers.  The  strawberries  were  very 
abundant,  and  she  soon  returned  with  a  large  pail 
full  of  ripe  fruit.  To  her  surprise,  she  found  the 
door  open,  and  on  looking  in  discovered  two  of  the 
tallest  Indians  she  had  ever  seen,  coolly  sitting  at 
her  table,  devouring  her  provisions  and  drinking 
milk.  Greatly  frightened,  she  stood  outside  the 
door  and  watched  them.  They  eat  like  men  who 
never  expected  such  a  treat  again.  Mrs.  Aiken  saw 
with  astonishment  all  her  bread  disappear,  followed 
by  loaf  after  loaf  of  cake  and  several  pies,  until  she 
began  to  fear  that  they  would  die.  After  eating 
enough  to  supply  any  two  white  men  for  .ten  days, 
they  turned  and  spied  her  outside  the  door.  She 
tried  to  say  "  sago,  sago?" — how  are  you — but  in  her 
fright  used  the  salutation  of  another  tribe.  This 
greatly  amused  them,  and  they  laughed  till  the  house 
rang.  Good-naturedly  paying  for  their  supper  with 
a  couple  of  large  plugs  of  tobacco,  they  stalked  down 
to  the  river  where  they  had  left  their  canoe,  pushed 


PIONEER  LIFE.  37 


off,  and  paddled  away,  leaving  their  relieved  hostess 
to  get  such  provisions  as  she  could  to  accompany 
her  strawberries. 

About  this  time  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gardner,  from 
Michigan,  removed  to  Grand  Detour,  and  settled 
just  across  the  river  from  the  Aiken s.  They  were 
young  people,  married  only  a  few  months.  Mrs. 
Gardner  was  a  most  amiable  Christian,  and  there 
sprang  up  between  these  two  women,  so  far  from 
any  society,  a  strong  friendship.  During  the  long 
winter  their  husbands  were  away,  weeks  at  a  time, 
getting  out  logs.  Rock  River,  frozen  solid  as  a 
floor,  was  easily  crossed,  and  so  they  fell  into  the 
habit  of  spending  alternate  weeks  with  each  other, 
comforting  one  another  through  the  lonely  days  and 
nights.  Together  they  prayed,  together  sang  the 
songs  of  a  better  land,  when  for  days  not  a  solitary 
traveler  could  be  seen  passing  along  the  trail,  and 
the  lights  in  the  windows  of  their  distant  neighbors 
nickering  through  the  falling  snow  or  shining 
steadily  on  calm  evenings,  were  the  only  signs  of 
living  creatures  on  the  vast  prairie. 

But  at  the  end  of  March,  when  the  ice  was 
breaking  up  in  the  river,  rendering  it  almost  im- 
passable, word  came  that  Mrs.  Gardner  was  dead. 
Little  had  the  two  friends  thought  as  they  held 
such  loving  intercourse,  that  in  a  few  short  weeks 
the  one  should  be  taken,  and  the  other  left  to  jour- 
ney on  for  years. 


38         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

Hers  was  the  first  funeral  in  Grand  Detour. 
"When  they  laid  her  to  rest  under  the  leafless  oaks 
of  the  grove,  the  whole  community  for  miles  around 
came  together.  Over  her  grave  [they  sang  sweet, 
wailing  China,  thoughts  of  their  own  distant  homes 
and  hers  giving  the  notes  a  power  and  pathos  never 
heard  except  in  the  wilderness. 

On  the  twenty-eighth  of  April  a  little  boy,  whom 
they  named  Charlie,  was  born  to  the  Aikens,  fill- 
ing their  hearts  with  new  joy  and  thankfulness. 

But  the  next  winter  brought  sorrow  enough. 
One  day  in  October,  Mr.  Aiken  came  home  very 
ill.  All  their  relatives  were .  at  that  time  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river,  so  Mrs.  Aiken  was  entirely 
alone  with  him.  He  soon  became  delirious,  and 
she  did  not  dare  to  leave  him  long  enough  to  run 
for  help.  Three  days  she  watched  the  trail,  hoping 
to  see  some  passing  neighbor,  but  it  was  not  until 
the  afternoon  of  the  third  day  that  she  was  reward- 
ed by  the  sight  of  a  solitary  horseman.  She  flew 
to  the  door,  calling  loudly  and  shaking  a  table- 
cloth to  attract  his  attention.  But  when  he  came, 
he  knew  no  more  than  she  what  to  prescribe,  though 
her  great  medicine  chest  stood  by  full  of  drugs. 
They  feared  to  do  harm  by  selecting  the  wrong 
medicine,  so  Mrs.  Aiken  was  forced  to  be  content 
with  sending  for  a  neighbor,  an  old  lady,  who 
came  next  day  on  horseback,  and  dealt  out  huge 


PIONEER  LIFE.  39 


doses  of  calomel  and  jalap,  while  waiting  for  the 
doctor  to  arrive  from  Dixon. 

When  after  seven  long  weeks,  Mr.  Aiken  was 
able  to  ride  out  a  short  distance,  he  was  met  on 
his  return  by  his  wife,  who  cried,  "  Oh,  Cyrus,  I 
fear  our  darling  baby  is  dying,"  and  entering  the 
house  found  the  poor  child  strangling  with  croup. 
Neighbors  were  summoned,  only  to  see  little 
Charley  die,  as  he  lay  on  his  mother's  lap,  the 
next  morning.  In  her  great  sorrow  her  heart  went 
up  to  God,  and  as  she  seemed  to  feel  the  hand  of 
her  grandfather  laid  on  her  head,  she  cried,  "  I 
can  only  trust  Him,  and  give  up  my  darling." 
Little  Charlie,  seven  months  old,  lies  buried  on  the 
prairie. 

In  1838,  Lizzie's  Grandmother  Ward  died,  and 
left  all  her  household  effects  to  her  favorite  grand- 
daughter. She  had  come  in  her  youth,  from  Scot- 
land, and  possessed  many  family  relics  in  the  shape 
of  old  silver  salvers  as  well  as  bread  and  fruit  dishes 
of  the  same  precious  material.  These,  together  with 
her  table  silver,  rare  china,  and  table  and  bed  linen, 
fragrant  with  lavender,  were  carefully  packed  up 
and  forwarded  to  the  West.  But,  by  the  same  fatal- 
ity that  has  followed  all  Aunt  Lizzie's  earthly  pos- 
sessions, these  treasures  never  reached  her.  The 
boat  by  which  they  were  sent,  was  burned  on  Lake 
Erie  and  her  whole  cargo  lost. 


40         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

In  March,  1839,  the  Aikens'  second  child  was 
born  and  named  George.  In  May  they  removed  to 
their  new  house,  having  lived  less  than  two  years 
in  the  old  one.  This  new  home  was  about  three 
miles  from  the  other,  but  on  the  prairie,  away  from 
the  river.  In  haste  to  be  where  Mr.  Aiken  could  give 
proper  care  to  their  crops,  they  moved  in  before  the 
house  was  plastered,  or  the  glass  set  in  the  windows. 
The  family  was  very  large,  including  a  number  of 
men,  busy  fencing  and  ditching.  Under  the  pres- 
sure of  this  heavy  work,  added  to  the  care  of  her 
little  child,  Mrs.  Aiken's  health  entirely  failed,  and 
she  was  for  months  confined  to  her  bed.  Service 
could  not  be  procured  for  money,  but  girls  were 
tempted  to  come  and  work  during  the  summer  by 
the  offer  of  payment  in  clothing.  At  the  time  of 
their  greatest  need,  a  young  woman,  who  was  to  be 
married  in  the  autumn  came  to  help  keep  house, 
stipulating  that  she  should  receive  Mrs.  Aiken's 
wedding  dress  and  ornaments  as  wages.  Money 
was  no  consideration,  but  silk  dresses  such  as  were 
bought  in  Boston  could  not  be  procured  in  all  the 
West. 

Three  miles  away  at  Daysville,  lived  an  aged 
physician,  Dr.  Eoe,  who,  together  with  his  wife,  be- 
came greatly  interested  in  the  poor  invalid  and  her 
beautiful  boy.  The  good  doctor  carefully  conveyed 
them  on  a  mattress  to  his  house,  and  his  wife  gave 


PIONEER  LIEE.  41 


them  the  best  of  nursing.  This  change  was  a  blessed 
one  for  Lizzie  Aiken.  Though  at  first  practically 
bed-ridden,  she  gradually  improved.  The  doctor 
was  a  Methodist  class-leader,  and  the  only  religions 
meetings  of  the  place  were  held  at  his  house.  There 
were  many  who  attended  these  gatherings  and  Mrs. 
Aiken  was  most  happy  to  meet  once  more  with 
Christians  in  their  weekly  services.  Hitherto  her 
only  attendance  at  church  had  been  when  occasion- 
ally they  could  ride  ten  miles  to  Dixon.  Her  Sun- 
days were  spent  in  reading  the  Bible  through  and 
through.  The  religious  papers,  the  old  Boston 
"  Beflector  "  and  the  Xew  York  M  Register,  "which 
were  sent  her  from  the  East,  were  almost  learned 
by  heart  and  then  lent  to  the  neighbors.  The  set- 
tlers were  at  first  too  scattered  to  admit  of  having 
prayer  meetings,  and  the  only  communion  she  en- 
joyed with  the  saints  was  by  letters  written  on 
Sunday  to  the  good  old  deacons  who  had  cared  for 
her  religious  life  in  childhood,  and  other  Christian 
friends.  Of  these  letters  none  remain,  but  the 
answers  to  a  few  are  still  preserved,  which  show  how 
these  widely  separated  friends  poured  out  the  wine 
of  their  Christian  experience  for  each  other's  benefit. 
Mrs.  Aiken's  health  improved  so  rapidly  from  the 
rest  and  good  care  which  she  enjoyed  at  Dr.  Boe's, 
that  early  in  the  autumn  she  was  able  to  return 
home.  She  found  that  several  families  had  settled 
4 


42         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN.     * 

around  them;  everywhere  new  houses  were  to  be 
seen,  in  wThich  people  were  living  with  unplastered 
walls,  and  partitions  made  by  carpets  hung  between 
the  rooms.  Among  these  was  a  family  named  Cun- 
ningham. Mrs.  Cunningham  proved  a  most  del  ight- 
fnl  neighbor.  She  had  a  large  family,  six  sons  and 
two  daughters,  little  girls  of  eight  and  ten  years; 
but  with  all  her  cares  found  time  to  visit  and  com- 
fort her  sick  neighbor.  Whenever  "little  Mrs. 
Aiken,"  as  she  was  affectionately  styled  in  the  set- 
tlement, was  able  to  ride  out,  Mrs.  Cunningham  was 
always  ready  to  take  her.  Her  little  daughters,  Mary 
and  Caroline,  also  devoted  themselves  to  the  invalid. 
Never  were  they  happier  than  when  they  could  run 
over  and  play  with  the  baby,  or  sit  on  Sunday  after- 
noons, one  on  each  side  of  their  friend,  and  sing 
the  songs  she  taught  them.  There  was  no  Sunday- 
school,  but  Mrs.  Aiken  began  her  first  "girls'  meet- 
ing," with  these  two  attendants;  she  instructed 
them  in  the  Bible,  reading  and  teaching  them  verses. 
These  children  became  thus  one  of  the  greatest  com- 
forts of  her  life,  diverting  her  mind  from  her  weak- 
ness and  pain. 

Out  on  the  prairie  little  Charlie's  grave  grew 
green,  but  had  nothing  as  yet  to  distinguish  it  from 
the  newer  hillocks  that  began  to  cluster  around  it. 
His  fond  mother  often  thought  that  it  would  be 
sweet  to  have  some  link  between  her  darling's  grave 


PIONEER  LIFE.  43 


and  the  dear  old  Xew  England  home.  Her  father, 
knowing  this  desire,  sent  her,  packed  in  the  centre 
of  a  barrel  of  home  comforts,  a  tiny  rooted  plant  of 
the  same  sweet  briar  that  perfumed  the  garden  at 
Cavendish.  This  little  rosebush,  with  only  three 
sweet  leaves,  planted  with  care,  and  watered  by  a 
mother's  tears,  grew  in  time  to  overshadow  the 
grave  and  fill  the  air  with  the  fragrance  of  the  Xew 
England  hills,  so  dear  to  the  heart  of  every  wander- 
ing son  and  daughter  of  that  beautiful  though  bar- 
ren land. 

The  next  summer  there  came  to  Grand  Detour  a 
young  Baptist  student  of  theology,  named  Wieki- 
zer,  spending  his  vacation  in  preaching  as  colporter, 
among  the  scattered  sheep  in  the  wilderness.  A 
sturdy,  black-eyed  youth  from  among  the  Pennsyl- 
vania Dutchmen,  he  labored  hard  to  gather  the 
Baptists  into  churches.  At  Grand  Detour  he  found 
six  or  eight,  but  they  thought  it  better  to  hold  their 
membership  with  the  church  at  Dixon,  ten  miles 
away,  than  to  organize  themselves  into  a  feeble 
church,  too  weak  to  support  itself.  Mrs.  Aiken,  al- 
ways hungry  for  the  truth,  gathered  the  neighbors 
together  in  her  house,  and  Mr.  "Wickizer  preached 
to  them  several  times  before  he  went  on  his  way. 
These  were  the  first  services  held  by  the  Baptists  in 
Grand  Detour. 

The  Autumn  of  1841  was  a  time  of  great  suffer- 


44         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

ing  and  sorrow.  There  was  much  sickness  through- 
out the  settlement  and  many  died.  Among  these 
was  little  Georgie  Aiken,  who  was  buried  beside 
his  brother,  leaving  his  mother  again  childless, 
weeping  for  her  children  and  not  to  be  comforted, 
save  by  that  consolation  which  God  himself  be- 
stows upon  the  desolate.  To  this  affliction  were 
added  trials  of  a  different  kind.  Through  the  dis- 
honesty of  those  in  whom  he  trusted,  Mr.  Aiken 
lost  a  section  of  land  which  he  had  pre-empted,  and 
the  house  that  he  had  built  upon  it.  So  that  in  six 
weeks  from  the  time  that  they  buried  their  darling 
baby,  the  Aikens  were  obliged  to  leave  the  home 
made  doubly  precious  by  the  memories  of  his  short, 
but  lovely  life.  They  concluded  to  leave  the  place 
where  they  had  been  so  deeply  wronged,  and  to  re- 
move to  Peoria.  Mrs.  Aiken's  beloved  friend,  Mrs. 
Cunningham,  accompanied  them  as  far  as  Dixon, 
where  they  parted  from  each  other  with  sobs  and 
tears. 

The  last  of  December,  little  Henry  was  born  to 
gladden  the  hearts  of  his  parents  for  a  short  period. 
Since  they  had  come  to  Peoria,  the  Aikens  had  been 
living  in  hired  rooms,  a  circumstance  that  had 
greatly  distressed  Mrs.  Aiken,  as  she  had  always 
been  taught  that  money  paid  for  rent  was  so  much 
thrown  away.  Hearing  in  the  early  spring  of  a 
cottage  for  sale,  she  took  the  earliest  opportunity 


PIONEER  LIFE.  45 


of  seeing  it.  She  found  a  pretty  white  house  with 
green  blinds,  adorned  with  vines  and  surrounded  by 
trees.  Stepping  into  a  neighbor's  to  inquire  about 
the  place,  she  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  Moravian 
lady,  whose  motherly  kindness  and  family  of  lovely 
children  attracted  Mrs.  Aiken  quite  as  much  as  did 
the  pretty  cottage.  Finding  the  house  to  be  all  that 
she  desired,  she  persuaded  her  husband  to  buy  it. 
Her  neighbor,  Mrs.  Banvard,  proved  to  be  the 
mother  she  looked,  and  watched  over  her  with 
affectionate  care. 

As  soon  as  she  was  able,  Mrs.  Aiken  sought  out 
the  little  Baptist  church,  then  under  the  pastoral 
care  of  the  Eev.  A.  M.  Gardner,  which  held  its  ser- 
vices at  this  time  in  the  Court  House,  and  numbered 
forty- two  members.  Here,  as  has  always  been  her 
custom  on  removing  to  a  new  place,  she  put  in  her 
letter  at  the  first  opportunity. 

In  1844,  Mr.  Aiken,  being  prospered  in  business, 
moved  back  the  white  cottage  in  which  they  had 
hitherto  lived,  and  built  a  large  brick  house  in  front 
of  it,  occupying  the  house  before  it  was  finished. 
The  dampness,  incident  to  the  fresh  plastering, 
brought  on  a  fit  of  illness  which  prostrated  him 
greatly,  and  little  Henry  died  about  the  same  time. 
In  her  grief,  his  bereaved  mother  turned  with  more 
eagerness  than  before  to  the  church  for  consolation. 
She   found  comfort  in  entering  into   more  active 


46         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

service  and  working  for  the  church  of  God.  At 
this  time  she  took  a  class  in  the  Sunday  school. 
The  superintendent,  David  Irons,  with  his  wife,  had 
removed  but  a  short  time  before  to  Peoria,  from 
Albion,  New  York.  Mrs.  Aiken  had  known  them 
from  childhood  and  she  welcomed  them  with  great 
joy.  The  past  acquaintance  was  eagerly  renewed, 
and  Mrs.  Irons  became  the  intimate  friend  of  Mrs. 
Aiken. 

Everything  connected  with  their  own  church  and 
denomination  has  always  been  very  near  to  hearts 
the  most  catholic  in  their  sympathies,  just  as  the 
broadest  love  for  humanity  at  large  has  never  pre- 
vented those  exercising  it  from  being  especially 
tender  of  their  own  families.  And  thus  without 
the  slightest  narrowness  in  her  intercourse  with 
Christians  of  other  names,  Aunt  Lizzie  has  al- 
ways been  firm  and  true  in  her  own  faith.  As  she 
herself  says,  "  I  love  my  own  denomination,  and 
would  love  it  even  though  it  should  contain  a  mil- 
lion hypocrites." 

During  the  years  of  their  residence  at  Peoria  she 
and  her  husband  thought  it  no  hardship  to  attend 
the  commencements  of  Shurtleff  College,  at  Alton, 
though  they  were  obliged  to  ride  over  an  hundred 
miles  in  their  carriage.  While  they  were  still  build- 
ing their  house,  the  General  Baptist  State  Associa- 
tion met  at  Peoria.     The  Baptists  in  the  town  were 


FIOXEER  LIFE.  47 


few,  and  Mrs.  Aiken,  delighted  with  the  opportu- 
nity to  do  even  more  than  her  share,  entertained 
eleven  of  the  ministers,  even  though  she  had  beds 
for  but  few  of  them.  A  large  room  in  the  unfin- 
ished house  was  fitted  up  with  mattresses  and 
quilts,  and  was  turned  into  a  most  comfortable  bed- 
room for  the  pioneers  who  came  up  to  the  meetings. 
Mrs.  Aiken  herself,  according  to  her  custom  divi- 
ded her  time  between  leading  the  singing  at  all  the 
meetings  and  helping  cook  grand  dinners  for  her 
guests. 

In  18-io,  Mrs.  Aiken  went  home  to  Cavendish  for 
a  few  weeks  to  be  tenderly  nursed  back  to  strength 
by  her  devoted  father  and  mother.  While  she  was 
away,  her  husband  sold  the  house  wThich  he  had 
barely  finished,  for  half  that  it  was  worth.  The 
malady  that  had  haunted  him  all  his  life,  began  to 
make  itself  manifest.  From  this  time,  he  gradual- 
ly lost  the  power  to  attend  to  his  business  affairs. 
His  brain  had  been  slightly  affected  for  some  time, 
though  his  brave  little  wife  had  steadily  closed  her 
eyes  to  a  hundred  things  that  might  have  warned 
her  of  some  such  trouble  ahead.  But  now,  with 
utter  obliviousness  of  the  result,  he  disposed  of  his 
property  for  almost  nothing;  and  from  living  in 
comfort  and  prosperity,  Mrs.  Aiken  was  gradually 
reduced  to  poverty.  Still  she  clung  to  her  husband, 
refusing   to   believe   it   more   than   some   passing 


4S         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

trouble,  and  struggled  to  keep  together  the  prop- 
erty that  was  still  left. 

In  1S46  the  church  edifice,  erected  through  the 
most  unwearied  exertions  on  the  part  of  both  pastor 
and  people,  was  dedicated.  I  copy  a  little  para- 
graph from  a  later  record,  that  gives  Mrs.  Aiken's 
share  in  the  transaction : 

"  Aunt  Lizzie  Aiken  set  the  example  to  other 
ladies  of  the  church  in  asking  subscriptions  to  the 
cause ;  and  it  is  related  that  she  purchased  the  first 
pair  of  curtains  for  one  of  the  windows,  with  money 
earned  by  her  own  hand  in  sewing." 


CHAPTER  III. 

DISCIPLINE. 

In  April,  of  1847,  Mr.  Aiken  having  become  rest- 
less and  tired  of  Peoria,  gathered  up  what  remained 
of  his  property,  and  bought  a  farm  of  eighty  acres 
on  the  State  Road  to  Iowa,  twenty  miles  from  Peo- 
ria, and  near  a  little  village  called  Brimfield.  His 
wife  had  worked  very  hard  during  the  winter.  She 
had  tried  to  save  what  she  could,  and  to  earn  money 
by  keeping  a  house  full  of  boarders.  Of  course  the 
thought  of  quitting  the  city  was  a  welcome  one  to 
her,  brought  up  as  she  had  been  to  love  the  free  life 
of  the  country;  and  she  entered  gladly  into  the  ar- 
rangements for  moving.  It  seems  to  have  been  her 
destiny  to  begin  housekeeping  in  unfinished  houses. 
At  Brimfield,  although  the  farm  was  all  under  cul- 
tivation, there  were  but  two  rooms  in  their  dwell- 
ing ready  for  use.  Mrs.  Aiken  took  up  with  great 
delight  the  work  of  fitting  up  the  house  and  adorn- 
ing the  place,  overseeing  the  setting  out  of  many 
fruit  and  shade  trees,  and  the  planting  of  a  garden. 

The  village  of  Brimfield  had  been  settled  almost 
5  (49) 


50         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

exclusively  by  New  Englanders,  who  gladly  wel- 
comed a  Vermont  family  among  them.  Mrs.  Aiken 
immediately  commenced  here  the  missionary  labors 
that  had  occupied  so  much  of  her  time  at  Peoria. 
Young  as  she  still  was,  she  had  been  sought  out  by 
both  pastor  and  people  to  visit  the  sick,  look  after 
the  poor,  and  lay  out  the  dead.  A  peculiar  gift  of 
sympathy  and  helpfulness  was  recognized  in  her 
by  all. 

When  Mrs.  Aiken  first  went  to  Brimfield  there 
were  no  churches  in  the  place.  Union  meetings 
were  held  in  the  school  house,  which  were  sustained 
by  Christians  of  whatever  name.  Mrs.  Aiken 
greatly  missed  her  own  church,  which  of  course  she 
could  attend  only  occasionally.  Dr.  Henry  Wes- 
ton, now  President  of  Crozier  Theological  Seminary, 
but  then  pastor  of  the  Peoria  church,  met  a  friend 
who  inquired  after  Mrs.  Aiken,  and  asked  "  what 
will  she  do  in  Brimfield  without  her  church?'' 
"  Give  yourself  no  uneasiness  on  that  score,"  was 
the  answer,  "  she  will  have  a  church  in  a  short  time." 
The  prophesy  proved  to  be  true,  though  the  way 
in  which  it  was  fulfilled  conld  certainly  have  been 
anticipated  by  no  one. 

After  awhile,  the  Congregationalists  became  strong 
enough  to  withdraw  from  the  meetings  at  the  school- 
house,  and  form  a  church  of  their  own.  Mrs.  Ai- 
ken was  at  once  invited  to  take  a  class  in  their  Sun- 


DISCIPLINE.  51 


day-school.  Ten  girls  were  placed  under  her  care, 
and  became  greatly  attached  to  their  teacher.  ~Not 
content  with  visiting  them  at  their  homes,  and 
teaching  them  on  Sunday  Mrs.  Aiken  used  them 
as  the  nucleus  of  a  girls'  meeting,  and  invited  all  the 
young  girls  in  the  neighborhood  to  meet  with  them 
at  her  house  to  sing  and  pray. 

Though  teaching  in  the  Congregational  Sunday- 
school,  Mrs.  Aiken  had  told  her  class,  in  answer 
to  their  questions,  that  she  was  a  Baptist.  One 
Sunday,  after  morning  service,  one  of  these  young 
ladies  came  to  her  and  said  she  would  like  to 
introduce  to  her  her  father  and  mother,  who  were 
present.  The  father  expressed  great  pleasure  at 
meeting  Mrs.  Aiken,  saying  that  he  had  never 
hoped  to  meet  a  Baptist  again.  They  had  left 
Pennsylvania  almost  two  years  before,  where  their 
parents  were  members  of  the  Baptist  church,  and 
had  never  happened  to  fall  in  with  any  members  of 
that  denomination  in  their  journeyings.  An  invi- 
tation to  dinner  was  gladly  accepted,  and  all  rode 
over  to  the  farm. 

After  dinner  these  new-made  friends  held  a 
prayer-meeting  together,  and  the  Baileys  told  their 
Christian  experience — how  they  loved  the  Lord,  but 
had  never  yet  united  with  any  church.  They  also 
said  that  they  were  Baptists  and  wished  to  connect 
themselves  with  a  church  of  that  faith.     Mrs.  Aiken 


53         THE  STORY  OF  A  UXT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

gladly  undertook  to  aid  them  in  the  matter.  She 
wrote  to  Dr.  AVeston,  telling  him  the  circumstances, 
and  at  the  time  of  the  next  covenant  meeting  of  his 
church,  took  her  friends  in  her  carriage  twenty 
miles  to  Peoria,  where  they  were  received  by  the 
church,  and  baptized  the  next  day  in  Peoria  lake. 
Mrs.  Aiken  joyfully  told  her  pastor  that  now  God 
had  provided  a  deacon  for  the  Baptist  church  that 
was  to  be  in  Brimfield. 

A  few  months  after  this,  the  pastor  of  the  Meth- 
odist church,  Bev.  Lewis  Atkinson,  came  to  Mrs. 
Aiken  for  counsel.  He  told  her  that  he  was  troub- 
led about  his  baptism;  that  he  had  come  to  think 
the  Baptists  were  right  in  their  views  of  that  ordi- 
nance, and  ended  by  asking  what  she  considered 
his  duty  to  be  ?  Her  answer,  as  might  have  been 
expected,  was  that  in  view  of  his  convictions,  all 
that  he  could  do  was  to  arise  and  be  baptized. 
Shortly  after,  Dr.  Weston  came  out  and  baptized 
him,  and  thus  a  pastor  was  provided  for  the  little 
Baptist  church  of  Brimfield. 

But  before  the  church  was  organized  much  work 
had  to  be  done.  Mrs.  Aiken  planned  her  house- 
hold affairs  so  that  she  had  leisure  to  visit  all  the 
afternoon  in  the  interests  of  the  new  church.  Bid- 
ing round  the  county  on  horseback,  she  found  four- 
teen Baptists  with  church  letters  laid  carefully  away, 
whom  she  easily  persuaded  to  join  in  the  enterprise. 


DISCIPLINE. 


In  the  meantime,  they  held  services  in  the  school- 
house,  with  occasional  preaching  by  that  sterling 
old  pioneer  and  faithful  servant  of  God,  Rev.  Joel 
Sweet.  He  was  pastor  of  a  small  country  church 
at  Lamoille,  and  came  over  to  Brimfield  whenever 
he  could.  He  gave  them  the  pure  word  of  God 
without  money  and  without  price,  never  receiving 
anything  for  his  services  except  an  occasional  tur- 
key or  piece  of  pork.  About  1S50,  the  church,  the 
result  of  many  prayers  and  much  labor,  was  formed. 
God  prospered  it  greatly,  and  gave  it  favor  in  the 
community.  Kor  did  Mrs.  Aiken  cease  praying 
after  the  church  was  fully  organized,  but  on  Satur- 
day afternoons  used  to  finish  np  her  work,  and  then 
run  over  to  the  house  of  her  friend  and  neighbor, 
Mrs.  Deborah  Alden,  that  they  might  together  pray 
for  its  prosperity.     This  they  did  for  two  years. 

Xor  did  her  own  little  church  monopolize  all  of 
Mrs.  Aiken's  heart.  She  kept  open  house  for  all 
Baptist  travelers,  so  that  her  house  was  called  the 
Baptist  tavern.  She  and  her  husband  took  turns  in 
attending  the  meetings  of  the  local  association. 
When  it  was  her  turn  to  stay  at  home,  Mrs.  Aiken 
entertained  the  delegates  as  they  passed  to  and  from 
the  meetings.  Sometimes  the  party  was  so  large 
that  it  was  necessary  to  serve  the  meals  in  the  open 
air.  The  barn  doors  were  taken  oif  and  used  as 
tables.     Under  the  locust  trees  the  hungry  travelers 


5i         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 


were  thus  regaled  with  the  products  of  the  farm, 
and  with  fruit  from  the  orchard. 

Her  house  at  Brimfield  was  a  source  of  great  pride 
and  pleasure  to  Mrs.  Aiken.  It  was  so  conveniently 
fitted  up,  and  suited  her  so  well  in  every  way.  But 
it  was  taken  from  her  in  a  moment.  As  she  walked 
home  from  prayer-meeting  with  her  husband,  on 
the  evening  of  the  ninth  of  September,1851,  they 
saw  that  a  severe  thunder  storm  was  gathering  all 
around  the  sky,  and  hastened  into  the  house  lest 
the  rain  should  overtake  them.  But  secure  as  they 
felt  under  their  own  roof,  it  proved  an  ineffectual 
shelter.  The  storm  came  nearer  and  nearer,  the 
lightning  grew  more  blinding  at  every  flash,  till 
about  ten  o'clock  the  tempest  culminated  just  over 
their  heads.  The  neighbors,  watching  its  progress 
saw  a  ball  of  fire  fall  from  the  clouds  and  strike  the 
chimney,  and  then  scatter  all  over  the  roof.  Those 
within  the  house  were  thrown  to  the  floor.  On  re- 
covering her  senses,  Mrs.  Aiken  looked  up  and  saw 
that  the  roof  was  gone.  "With  trembling  limbs 
they  fled  to  the  barn  for  safety,  and  when  the  storm 
was  a  little  abated,  to  the  house  of  their  neighbor, 
Mr.  Alden .  The  shock  rendered  Mrs.  Aiken  speech- 
less for  several  hours,  and  it  was  a  year  before  she 
entirely  recovered  her  hearing. 

On  going  to  the  house  they  found  every  pane  of 
glass  broken,  every  lock  and  piece  of  metal  melted, 


DISCIPLINE.  55 


even  to  the  wheels  of  the  clock.  The  framework 
of  the  building  was  all  that  was  left,  and  that  was 
severely  shaken.  Several  of  their  neighbors  offered 
them  a  home  for  the  winter,  ,but  they  preferred  to 
fit  up  a  new  barn  with  some  comforts  to  make  it 
habitable  till  the  house  could  be  re-built.  In  the 
spring  they  entered  the  re-made  dwelling,  but  the 
beauty  of  the  house  was  gone.  It  was  quite  inferior 
to  what  it  had  been  at  first,  and  Mr.  Aiken's  failing 
health"  cut  off  all  hope  of  ever  improving  it. 

In  the  winter  of  1S51  there  came  from  the  East 
a  family  that  at  once  enlisted  the  affectionate  sym- 
pathy of  Mrs.  Aiken.  Mr.  Chas.  Day  brought  his 
invalid  wife,  whose  dark  eyes  and  silken  hair  con- 
trasted painfully  with  her  pallid  cheeks,  to  Brim- 
field,  in  the  vain  hope  of  restoring  her  once  more 
to  health.  Her  Christian  fortitude  in  bearing  her 
sufferings  appealed  even  more  than  her  appearance 
to  the  heart  of  one  who  had  herself  passed  through 
much  sickness.  Mrs.  Aiken  made  herself  truly 
their  neighbor,  and  when,  at  midwinter,  the  re- 
deemed spirit  went  home  to  heaven,  the  mourning 
husband  and  his  two  little  girls  turned  to  her  for 
comfort.    • 

"When  spring  came,  Mr.  Day  resolved  to  take 
his  motherless  children  to  their  grandmother,  and 
invited  Mrs.  Aiken  to  accompany  them.  The  little 
church,  at  this  time  numbering  eighteen  souls,  also 


56         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

wished  her  to  go,  that  she  might  interest  their 
Eastern  brethren  in  the  place  of  worship  that  they 
had  determined  to  build.  She  undertook  the  task, 
but  without  great  success,  as  she  only  raised  about 
a  hundred  dollars. 

While  at  the  East,  Mrs.  Aiken  went  to  Cavendish 
to  visit  her  own  family.  Expected  by  no  one,  she 
drove  up  to  her  father's  house,  and  entered  without 
meeting  a  soul  to  recognize  her.  Softly  opening 
the  sitting-room  door,  she  saw  her  father  piling 
wood  on  the  lire.  Her  whole  soul  filled  with  sor- 
row and  longing,  she  rushed  into  his  arms,  as  he 
turned  with  surprise  toward  her,  and  bursting  into 
a  flood  of  tears,  cried  like  Naomi,  "  Oh  Father, 
Father,  here  1  am  ;  you  sent  me  out  full,  but  I 
always  return  empty." 

Brothers  and  sisters  came  home  to  meet  her. 
Together  they  sat  down  at  the  table,  all  there  for 
the  first  time  in  many  years.  A  secret  pang  of 
sorrow  stole  over  the  heart  that  held  them  all  so 
dear,  and  Lizzie  could  not  suppress  her  tears.  Her 
father  observing  her  emotion,  asked, 

"My  daughter,  pray  what  is  the  matter?" 

"  Dear  father,"  was  the  reply,  "  shall  we  ever  all 
meet  again?" 

"  This  foreshadowing  of  the  future,  which  indeed 
proved  to  be  only  too  true,  quite  checked  the  flow 
of  conversation,  and  spoiled  the  dinner.     But  one 


DISCIPLINE.  57 


of  the  sisters  turned  the  tide  into  another  channel. 
This  was  Roxy,  who  had  just  graduated  from  school, 
and  was  eager  to  see  something  of  the  world  beyond 
the  hills  of  Vermont. 

"Lizzie,"  she  cried,  "dry  up  your  tears;  I'm 
going  home  with  you  to  spend  a  year,  and  make 
you  happy!  may  I  not,  father?"'  she  added,  turning 
to  him  where  he  sat,  distressed  at  Lizzie's  emotion. 

u  Mv  child,"  he  answered,  "  I  will  decide  for  your 
brother,  who  wishes  to  go,  but  your  mother  must 
decide  for  you." 

It  was  not  very  hard  to  win  over  the  gentle 
mother  to  consent  to  anything  which  should  in- 
crease the  happiness  of  her  daughters,  and  the 
house  was  soon  topsy-turvy,  preparing  Roxy  for 
her  visit.  It  was  deemed  necessary  to  make  her  a 
complete  wardrobe  for  the  entire  year,  as  she  was 
just  stepping  out  of  her  school-girl  life. 

On  the  third  of  May,  they  finally  started  for  the 
AVest.  They  began  the  journey  by  riding  over  to 
Proctersville  to  take  dinner  with  their  sister  Sarah. 
The  whole  family  was  again  present  with  many  of 
the  relatives,  nine  carriage  loads  having  accom- 
panied the  travelers  thus  far.  The  forebodings  of 
the  former  occasion  had  melted  away  in  joy,  that 
Roxy  was  going  West,  but  alas!  it  was  Roxy,  so 
young,  so  beloved,  who  was  to  return  no  more. 

The  journey  to  Brinifield  was  most  delightful; 


58         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

everything  conspired  to  make  it  pleasant.  Mrs. 
Aiken,  happy  in  the  prospect  of  her  sister's  com- 
panionship, could  not  refrain  from  often  taking  her 
by  the  hand  and  assuring  her  of  her  love  and  her 
wonder  that  their  parents  had  permitted  her  to  take 
away  their  darling. 

At  Peoria  they  were  met  by  Mr.  Aiken,  who  took 
them  out  to  Brimfield.  It  was  a  merry  ride  over 
the  prairies,  now  green  with  the  springing  crops  and 
gay  with  early  flowers.  Arrived  at  home,  they  found 
a  company  of  the  young  people  of  the  place  gather- 
ed to  meet  them,  eager  to  see  the  young  girl  and 
her  brother,  in  whom  they  hoped  to  find  so  great  an 
accession  to  their  society.  All  were  happy,  and  all 
expected  yet  more  happiness.  Alas !  the  elder  sister 
who  followed  Roxy  everywhere  with  admiring  eyes, 
in  eleven  days,  just  eleven  days,  saw  her  die.  We 
will  let  her  tell  the  sad  story  as  she  wrote  it  to  her 
stricken  parents. 

Brimfield,  May  24th,  1852. 
My  Dear  Father  and  Mother: 

What  shall  I  say  to  you  ?  How  shall  I  attempt  to  console  you 
under  the  afflicting  hand  of  Providence  ?  God  has  truly  dealt 
mysteriously  with  me,  your  child.  My  dear  sister  Roxy  sleeps 
the  sleep  of*  death.  How  little  did  we  anticipate  such  an  event 
when  we  parted.  The  ways  of  Providence  are  truly  most  in- 
scrutable, but  they  are  nevertheless  all  wrought  in  infinite  wis- 
dom, for  God  doeth  all  things  well. 

She  died  on  Friday  morning  just  as  the  clock  was  striking 
nine.     She  was  sick  four  days.     ******    ghe  never 


DISCIPLINE.  59 


seemed  to  know  anything  after  the  first  day.  About  the  mid- 
dle of  the  day,  she  roused  up  and  looked  at  me.  I  burst  into 
tears,  and  told  her  I  "was  so  glad  she  knew  me.  She  raised  her 
haiids.  I  leaned  down  over  her,  and  she  kissed  me  so  affection- 
ately. Oh,  Roxy,  how  dear  thou  werttome!  ****** 
How  strange  that  in  so  short  a  time  she  should  become  so  in- 
terwoven with  my  destiny.  But  she  was  so  kind,  so  affection- 
ate, so  good,  so  in  every  point  what  I  wished  and  what  I  loved, 
that  I  do  not  believe  that  in  the  short  time  we  were  together, 
I  had  one  thought  for  the  future  with  which  she  was  not  con- 
nected, or  one  ambition,  hope  or  wish  but  Roxy  was  in  some 
way  to  be  the  recipient.  I  feel  bereaved  indeed  and  sad  and 
desolate.  ******  js  jt  true  that  I  shall  never  see 
her  face^again  ?  Oh,  how  unreconciled  I  am!  Was  there  ever 
grief  like  mine  ?  My  father,  my  mother,  I  have,  I  feel  that  I 
have  inflicted  a  wound  in  your  heart  that  time  can  never  heal  in 
bringing  your  dear  child,  my  dear  sister,  here  so  far  from  you 
to  die. 

Her  garments  all  hansr  up  just  as  she  left  them.     Her  wood- 
en trunk  has  all  her  little  treasures  just  as  she  put  them  away 
herself.     I  shall  not  have  them  touched.     *    *    *    *    *    * 
How  soon  was  my  cup  of  joy  dashed  down  !     How  are  my  hopes 
blasted  !     I  loved  her  to  idolatry.     ****** 

These  outpourings  of  a  sister's  broken  heart  have 
been  copied  to  show  how  great  was  the  affection 
that  had  been  lavished  on  Roxy.  There  are  pages 
more  in  the  same  strain,  which  have  but  one 
thought — "-'how  I  loved  her  and  now  she  is  dead  !" 
Still  Roxy  suffered  but  little  during  the  four  days 
of  her  illness  ;  she  was  insensible  most  of  the  time, 
and  her  last  hours  are  most  fittingly  described  by 
Hood's  exquisite  lines  : 


GO         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

"  We  watched  her  breathing  through  the  night, 

Her  breathing  soft  and  low, 
As  in  her  brea.st  the  wave  of  life 

Kept  heaving  to  and  fro.  "  • 

"  Our  very  hopes  belied  our  fears, 

Our  fears  our  hopes  belied — 
We  thought  her  dying  when  she  slept, 

And  sleeping  when  she  died.1' 

"  For  when  the  morn  came  dim  and  sad, 

And  chill  with  early  showers, 
Her  quiet  eyelids  closed — she  had 

Another  morn  than  ours.  " 

They  buried  her  in  a  pleasant  place  on  a  high 
rolling  prairie.  They  made  her  grave  where  the 
grassy  sod  had  as  yet  been  unturned,  for  hers  was 
the  first  burial  in  the  village  churchyard.  The 
sweet-briar  at  the  old  farm  in  Cavendish  was  des- 
poiled of  yet  another  slip  to  shed  its  scented  leaves 
where  she  lies,  and  every  June  the  small  fragrant 
roses,  which  she  loved  as  a  child,  blow  and  fade 
above  her  grave,  while  delicate  blossoms  of  the  prai- 
rie violet  and  the  purple  oxalis  blend  their  soft 
mourning  colors  with  the  grass  that  waves  over  her. 

Poor  Mr.  Aiken  was  heart-broken;  he  required 
consolation  himself,  and  had  to  be  comforted  like  a 
child.  It  was  to  her  brother  that  Mrs.  Aiken  turned 
for  advice.  He  reasoned  with  her,  reminded  her  of 
the  many  merciful  circumstances  connected  with 
the  event,  and  brought  her  gradually  back  to  be  her 


DISCIPLINE.  61 


own  cheerful  self.  It  was  in  this  trying  hour  that 
the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ  showed  its  power. 
Though  at  first  Mrs.  Aiken  could  not  rise  above 
the  question,  "  Lord,  why  is  it  thus  ?"  yet  in  the  same 
breath  she  said,  "  Hedoeth  all  things  well."  Surely 
the  Lord  has  led  her  through  great  and  sore  troubles 
that  she  may  be  able  to  feel  for  and  comfort  others. 
So  great  an  impression  has  this  sorrowful  time  made 
upon  her,  that  to  this  day  she  cannot  speak  of  it 
without  tears. 

Soon  after  Eoxy's  death  there  was  a  revival  in 
the  little  Brimfield  church,  and  again  Mrs.  Aiken 
found  that  working  for  Jesus  was  the  most  wonder- 
ful healer  of  her  sorrows.  To  a  mind  so  given  to 
dwelling  upon  the  past  in  its  minutest  particulars, 
and  a  heart  so  persistent  in  its  love  of  kindred,  an 
affliction  of  this  kind  might  have  proved  an  incur- 
able wound,  which  might  have  spoiled  all  the  re- 
maining years  of  life,  had  it  not  been  for  the  religion 
of  Jesus.  Christ,  by  giving  His  child  something  to 
do,  drew  her  thoughts  from  herself,  and  restored  that 
cheerful  temper  which  is  her  most  characteristic 
trait. 

It  was  well  that  she  had  something  to  occupy  her 
thoughts  outside  her  home,  for  though  she  did  not 
see  the  impending  trouble  as  clearly  as  did  her 
friends,  she  could  but  perceive  that  her  husband's 
health,  and  especially  his  mental  powers,  wTere  fail- 


62         THE  STORY  QF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

ing.  Many  were  the  sleepless  nights  she  spent 
thinking  over  the  clouded  present,  and  the  dark 
future.  Her  parents  suggested  that  it  would  be 
best  for  her  to  break  up  house-keeping,  but  she 
clung  to  her  home.  If  she  left  that  what  should 
she  do?  Her  brother  still  continued  to  live  at  her 
house,  and  so  long  as  she  had  his  strong  arm  to 
lean  on,  she  could  manage  to  keep  the  place  in  or- 
der. Gradually,  however,  matters  grew  worse;  the 
farm  was  first  rented  and  then  sold.  A  few  acres 
and  the  house  were  all  that  were  left,  and  even  this 
could  with  difficulty  be  retained. 

In  September,  1854,  a  little  child  was  born,  but 
he  never  responded  to  his  mother's  loving  kiss. 
He  came  like  a  flower,  the  joy  of  a  moment,  born 
only  to  be  buried  by  the  side  of  his  Aunt  Roxy. 
Another  such  grief  coming  just  at  this  time  well 
nigh  crushed  Mrs.  Aiken.  But  God  provided  an 
antidote.  One  of  her  intimate  friends  had  just  died 
in  Peoria,  leaving  a  sweet  baby,  only  a  few  days 
old.  This  motherless  child  was  brought  to  the 
childless  mother,  who  took  him  at  once  to  her  bo- 
som and  her  heart.  She  cared  for  him  as  her  own 
child,  and  amid  all  her  privations  and  trials,  kept 
him  with  her  for  ten  years.  At  the  end  of  that 
time  his  father  took  him  home,  but  only  for  a  few 
months,  as  he  died  when  in  his  eleventh  year. 

The  next  spring  Mr.  Ward  Atherton  bought  a 


DISCIPLINE.  63 


farm  in  southern  Illinois,  and  moved  away  from 
B  rim  field.  This  left  his  sister  very  lonely.  Hith- 
erto she  had  relied  on  him,  but  now  there  was  no 
one  to  assist  her.  Mr.  Aiken  had  become  almost 
like  a  little  child,  needing  all  the  care  she  could  give 
him.  Their  property  had  wasted  away,  and  she  had 
no  power  to  provide  for  her  family  so  long  as  her 
time  was  fully  occupied  in  caring  for  her  husband. 
Before  he  left,  Mr.  Atherton  wrote  an  account  of 
the  state  of  Mrs.  Aiken's  affairs  to  his  father,  and 
urged  him  to  come  himself  to  look  after  the  inter- 
ests of  his  daughter.  It  was  however,  some  months 
before  he  arrived,  and  in  the  meantime  she  bore  a 
load  of  care  and  sorrow.  One  day  in  the  late 
autumn,  disturbed  by  the  lowing  of  the  cattle,  she 
went  to  the  barn  and  found  the  poor  creatures  al- 
most starved  to  death.  Mr.  Aiken  had  forgotten 
to  feed  them.  After  this  she  attended  to  their  wants 
herself,  and  often  waded  through  the  snow  to  tend 
them.  Many  were  the  bitter  tears  she  shed,  look- 
ing at  her  husband  as  he  sat  sleeping  in  his  chair 
by  the  fire,  with  no  more  forethought  nor  sense  of 
responsibility  than  an  infant.  Still  she  clung  to 
him,  determined  to  stand  by  him  to  the  last,  and 
never  forsake  her  trust.  But  when  her  father  came 
in  February,  he  saw  that  her  health  was  rapidly 
failing  under  the  double  burden  of  taking  care  of 
the  place,  and  worrying  over  the  condition  of  her 


64         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

husband,  and  he  insisted  that  she  should  make  some 
arrangement,  by  which  she  might  be  relieved  from 
this  crushing  responsibility.  He  offered  to  take 
her  husband  to  Cavendish  and  provide  for  him. 
Mrs.  Aiken  could  not,  at  first,  endure  the  idea,  but 
at  last  overpowered  by  the  judgment  of  her  father, 
the  remonstrances  of  her  friends,  and  her  own  con- 
viction that  they  were  right,  she  gave  way.  She 
herself  says,  "  God  only  knows  the  anguish  it  cost 
me  to  feel  that  I  was  never  more  to  have  a  home. 
In  distress  and  tears  I  sought  God,  and  finally  he 
spoke  to  me,  while  on  my  knees,  so  plainly  that  I 
could  not  mistake,  that  this  must  be  for  my  hus- 
band's sake,  for  that  of  my  relatives  and  my  own. 
The  decision  was  made  between  God  and  myself, 
and  I  shall  always  feel  that  I  did  right.  " 

Mr.  Atherton's  business  called  him  home  the 
first  of  March,  and  he  left  his  daughter  to  settle  up 
her  household  matters  preparatory  to  giving  up 
housekeeping.  Hardly  had  he  reached  Ver- 
mont, when  he  was  taken  ill,  and  before  the  end  of 
March,  died.  We  give  Mrs.  Aiken's  letter  to  her 
mother,  written  on  receipt  of  the  news  of  her  be- 
loved father's  death. 

Brimfield,  March  30th,  1856. 
My  dear  and  honored  Mother: 

Your  letter  filled  with  tidings  of  woe  came  last  evening. 
Dear  Mother,  it  is  the  Lord,  let  Him  do  what  seemeth  Him  good. 


DISCIPLINE.  65 


Cannot  you  say  so'?  Even  now  when  the  hand  of  God  is  most 
heavily  laid  upon  you,  cannot  you  kiss  the  hand  that  smites? 
Your  husband  sleeps  the  sleep  of  death,  but  mother,  your 
Redeemer  lives,  and  has  He  not  said  "  Because  I  live,  ye  shall 
live  also  ?"  He  has  dealt  mysteriously  with  you;  may  it  not  be 
to  lead  you  to  call  on  Him?  Commit  your  grief  into  the  hands 
of  God — then  will  He  enter  into  a  still  more  endearing1  relation 
toward  you.  "Thy  Maker  shall  be  thy  husband."  The  gospel 
of  the  Son  of  God  with  its  glorious  hopes,  its  rich  promises  and  its 
bright  anticipations,  can  alone  minister  true  consolation  under 
circumstances  such  as  yours,  my  dear  mother.  The  time  is 
short;  you  will  soon  go  to  father-.  Tour  dear  Roxy  you  will 
meet  there  too.  *  *  *  *  From  my  heart  do  I  feel  myself 
bound  to  minister  t©  the  comfort  of  you  now,  my  dear  and 
widowed  mother. 

Our  goods  are  all  packed  up  and  I  am  in  great  confusion,  but 
will  write  soon  again.     Cyrus  is  worse:  I  feel  sad  indeed. 

Your  affectionate  child, 

Eliza. 

Thus  did  the  same  person  who  poured  forth  such 
floods  of  passionate  sorrow  over  the  death  of  her 
sister,  restrain  herself  when  called  to  part  with  the 
father  who  had  always  been  so  indulgent  to  her. 
Especially  at  this  time  of  perplexity  and  darkness, 
when  she  hardly  knew  which  way  to  turn,  the  re- 
moval of  her  chief  friend  and  adviser  must  have 
been  a  great  blow.  But  true  to  her  nature,  she  puts 
her  own  sorrow  aside,  and  addresses  herself  solely 
to  the  comfort  of  one  even  more  bereft.  "I  feel 
sad  indeed,"  she  says,  u  Cyrus  is  worse,  my  father 
is  dead,  my  brother  has  left  me,  my  property  is 
6 


66         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

gone;  I  am  virtually  alone  in  the  world,  without 
husband,  father  or  home."  But  she  said,  with  Da- 
vid, "  In  the  multitude  of  my  thoughts  within  me, 
Thy  comforts  delight  my  soul;"  and  bravely  took 
up  her  broken  life,  to  struggle  on  for  the  glory  of 
God  and  the  good  of  her  fellow  men. 

Previous  to  leaving  Brimfield  she  wrote  to  Mrs. 
Irons,  in  Peoria,  giving  an  account  of  her  circum- 
stances. That  faithful  friend  replied  at  once : 
"  Come  to  me;  my  home  is  your  home,  so  long  as 
I  live."  So  on  the  tenth  of  April  Mrs.  Aiken  locked 
the  door  of  her  house  in  Brimfield,  and  left  it  for- 
ever. Her  brother  had  come  to  take  her  husband 
East,  and  he  drove  her  wTith  her  little  adopted  son 
over  to  Peoria.  It  was  a  lovely  spring  morning; 
the  sun  shone  down  on  the  familiar  scene  like  a 
benison.  It  was  hard  to  go  and  leave  the  house  she 
had  built,  the  trees  she  had  planted,  every  pleasant 
little  nook  she  knew  so  well.  As.  they  reached  a 
turn  in  the  road  which  should  shut  her  old  home 
from  sight,  she  entreated  her  brother  to  stop.  He 
did  not  wish  her  to  look  back,  but  she  besought  him 
to  let  her  do  so.  She  stood  up  in  the  carriage  and 
cast  one  lon^,  lin^erin^  look  behind.  She  knew 
that  she  should  never  have  another  home;  she  saw, 
as  with  a  prophetic  glance,  the  long,  lonely  road 
which  she  must  travel,  and  gave  herself  wholly  up 
to  the  will  of  God.     Once  more  she  felt  the  hand  of 


DISCIPLINE.  67 


her  dying  grandfather  laid  on  her  head,  and  heard 
the  faltering  voice  repeating,  "  Only  trust  Him — 
only  trust  Him."  The  sad  yet  constant  heart 
responded,  "Though  He  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust 
Him." 

For  a  few  weeks,  she  took  the  rest,  so  necessary 
to  her  wearied  body  and  still  more  weary  heart,  with 


her  beloved  friend,  Mrs.  Irons,  and  then  turned  to 
face  alone  the  stern  realities  of  life.  Her  husband's 
improvidence  had  involved  him  seriously  in  debt. 
This  indebtedness  Mrs.  Aiken  resolutely  determin- 
ed to  pay  by  her  own  exertions,  besides  providing 
for  herself  and  her  adopted  child.  Her  widowed 
mother  was  unable  to  help  her  farther  than  by  tak- 
ing charge  of  her  husband,  so  she  was  obliged  to 
look  about  her  for  some  means  of  gaining  a  liveli- 
hood. Her  long  and  faithful  labors  as  a  Christian 
woman,  came  to  her  aid  in  this  extremity.  Her 
friends  knew  how  gentle  her  hand  was  in  minister- 
ing to  the  sick,  and  proposed  to  her  that  she  should 
devote  herself  to  such  ministrations.  During  four 
years  she  went  from  house  to  house,  soothing  the 
aching  head,  caring  for  mothers  and  their  babes, 
doin^  all  with  such  affectionate  interest  and  unob- 
trusive  sympathy,  that  wherever  she  stayed  all  the 
family  became  her  firm  friends.  In  this  way  she 
paid  all  the  debts  of  her  husband,  and  still  with  her 
accustomed,  lavish  generosity,  gave  away  consider- 


6$         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

able  money.  The  following  incident  will  illustrate 
this  propensity  to  help  all  the  suffering  at  her  own 
expense. 

An  Eastern  lady,  visiting  in  Peoria,  became 
deeply  interested  in  Mrs.  Aiken,  and  said  to  her  that 
she  might  easily  make  money  by  the  sale  of  a  pat- 
ent medicine  which  she  considered  excellent.  She 
proved  her  friendship  by  giving  her  fifty  dollars' 
worth.  To  this  Mrs.  Aiken  added  fifty  dollars  from 
her  own  little  store,  and  started  out  to  make  her 
fortune.  But  for  her  to  live  was  to  give;  every  sick 
widow  or  sewing-girl  who  needed  the  medicine 
had  a  bottle  without  money  and  without  price.  It 
naturally  followed  that  when  the  accounts  were 
squared  up,  she  had  a  balance  on  hand  of  only  twen- 
ty-five dollars.  "With  difficulty  she  procured  more 
money  and  started  anew.  But  her  fresh  supply  did 
not  last  long.  "The  poor  ye  have  with  you  always, 
and  whensoever  ye  will  ye  may  do  them  good"  has 
always  been  Mrs.  Aiken's  motto.  Her  medicine 
was  popular,  it  cured  people  for  nothing.  When  the 
second  supply  was  gone,  there  was  no  money  left 
to  buy  more,  so  she  gave  up  the  idea  of  making 
her  fortune,  and  confined  herself  to  the  care  of  the 
sick. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

"AUNT  LIZZIE." 

The  spring  and  summer  of  1861,  ushered  in  by 

the  booming  of  cannon  at  Fort  Sumter,  brought 
events  that  filled  the  hearts  of  all  lovers  of  their 
country  with  sadness  and  foreboding.  Hardly  had 
the  necessity  for  their  presence  arisen,  when  true- 
hearted  women  made  their  way  to  the  hospitals  and 
battle-fields  of  the  East,  carrying  comfort  and  cheer 
to  many  desolate  spirits.  In  the  West  the  con- 
flict did  not  begin  so  early,  though  training  camps 
were  established  in  the  vicinity  of  many  towns. 
Xear  Peoria  were  stationed  the  troops  enlisted  in 
that  city.  The  blood  that  flowed  in  Mrs.  Aiken's 
veins  had  not  lost  the  patriotic  ardor  that  distin- 
guished her  ancestors  in  the  Revolutionary  war. 
She  immediately  joined  the  company  of  ladies  who 
visited  their  relatives  in  the  camp,  and  exerted  herself 
for  the  comfort  of  those  who  had  no  near  friends  to 
supply  them  with  many  things  which,  though  con- 
sidered absolute  necessaries  of  life  at  home,  are  un- 
known in  army  life.  As  opportunity  offered,  she 
(69) 


'0        THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 


gave  herself  to  missionary  labors  among  the  sol- 
diers. Her  little  bag  was  full  of  tracts,  which  were 
presented  with  such  tender  solicitude  that  the  most 
indifferent  could  not  refuse  to  take  them. 

In  October  the  want  of  nurses  began  to  be  felt 
in  the  Illinois  camps.  Just  outside  of  Springfield 
was  Camp  Butler,  filled  with  recruits,  many  of 
whom  were  sick  with  the  measles.  The  head-sur- 
geon of  the  Sixth  Illinois  Cavalry,  "  Gov.  Yates' 
Legion,"  Major  Xiglas,  of  Peoria,  returned  home, 
anxious  to  find  competent  nurses  to  assist  him. 
Nor  was  he  alone  in  his  solicitude;  the  mothers  of 
Peoria  had  sons  in  the  camp,  and  many  of  them 
came  and  implored  Mrs.  Aiken  to  go  and  care  for 
them.  Her  own  love  of  her  country,  and  her  heart 
filled  with  sympathy  for  the  suffering  soldiers  re- 
sponded to  the  appeal,  and  she  consented  to  accom- 
pany Major  Xiglas,  provided  some  lady  could  be 
found  to  join  her.  An  advertisement  for  such  a  per- 
son was  put  in  the  local  papers,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing Mrs.  Mary  Sturgis,  a  widow,  presented  herself 
and  was  gladly  accepted.  The  two  nurses  were  about 
the  same  age,  and  at  once  took  the  greatest  liking  to 
each  other.  Both  were  earnest  Christian  women, 
both  were  alone  in  the  world;  Mrs.  Sturgis  a  widow, 
Mrs.  Aiken  having  no  home,  on  account  of  her  hus- 
band's illness. 

But  all  of  Mrs.  Aiken's  friends  were  not  in  favor 


r.\j-  lizzie."  71 


of  her  new  occupation.     Mr.  Irons,  who  afterwards 

raised  a  regiment  of  which  he  was  colonel,  was  at 
this  time  absent  from  home.  He  wrote  decidedly 
opposing  the  move,  portraying  the  dangers  of  cap- 
ture. "  The  rebels, "  he  says  "  into  whose  hands 
you  may  tall,  will  not  be  liable  to  show  you  any 
particular  favors  or  mercy  in  consideration  of  your 
being  women.  Men  who  can  strip  and  tar  and 
feather  school-mistresses,  as  they  have  done,  would 
not  show  nurses  in  our  army  much  respect.  My 
opinion  is  that  unless  you  can  jump  over  a  ten  rail 
fence,  run  a  mile,  and  swim  a  river,  you  had  better 
not  go. " 

Nevertheless,  in  October,  the  two  ladies  and  Mrs. 
Sturgis'  daughter  Mary  accompanied  Major  Xiglas 
when  he  returned  to  Camp  Butler.  They  found 
in  the  Major  a  kind  friend,  who  looked  after  their 
welfare  so  long  as  they  were  with  the  regiment. 
They  reached  Springfield  toward  nightfall,  and  tak- 
ing a  carriage,  rode  the  six  or  seven  miles  to  camp, 
through  the  quiet  fields  flooded  with  the  radiance 
of  the  full  moon.  Nothing  could  have  seemed  more 
remote  from  war  and  its  distresses  than  this  peaceful 
prairie.  On  reaching  the  camp,  they  found  that 
they  were  expected.  A  new  tent  had  been  provid- 
ed for  them,  just  opposite  the  long  row  of  hospital 
tents. 

Major  Niglas,  to  spare  them  the  sight  of  misery 


72         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

that  they  were  too  tired  to  relieve,  bade  them  rest 
before  going  on  duty.  The}'  found  that  their  beds 
consisted  of  a  load  of  straw  and  some  blankets,  no 
cots  having  }Tet  been  provided.  Taking  their  car- 
pet-bags for  pillows  they  attempted  to  sleep;  but  in 
vain.  The  groans  of  the  sick,  and  cries  of  "  order- 
ly, orderly,  oh!  bring  me  some  water,"  filled  their 
hearts  with  pity,  and  they  passed  most  of  the  night 
in  standing  at  the  door  of  their  tent,  watching  the 
orderlies  as  they  hurried  about  attending  to  the  suf- 
ferers. Yery  early  in  the  morning,  they  besought 
the  surgeon  to  permit  them  to  go  on  duty  imme- 
diately, and  were  allowed  to  enter  upon  their  four 
years'  work.  The  surgeon  took  them  into  the  hos- 
pital tents  where  the  sick  lay  in  their  red  flannel 
shirts,  with  no  beds  but  their  blankets  spread  on  the 
ground,  their  faces  and  hands  scarlet  with  the  mea- 
sles. The  poor  fellows  were  overcome  with  grati- 
tude. They  thanked  the  ladies  over  and  over  again 
for  coming  to  them,  and  implored  them  for  aid. 
They  wished  to  know  the  names  of  these  kind 
friends  who  were  to  fill  the  places  of  their  mothers, 
and  asked  Major  Xiglas  to  let  them  use  some  ap- 
pellations less  formal  than  Madam  in  addressing 
them.  So  the  surgeon,  turning  to  Mrs.  Sturgis 
who  stood  at  his  right,  said  "you  may  call  this  lady 
'Mother,'  and  the  lady  at  my  left  you  may  call 
'  Aunt  Lizzie.'  "     "  Mother  "  and    "Aunt  Lizzie  " 


auxt  lizzie: 


they  continue  to  be  to  tills  day,  in  the  grateful 
hearts  of  many  of  their  "  boys." 

Obviously  the  first  necessity  to  be  met  was  to 
provide  beds  for  the  sick,  who  were  lying  on  the 
damp  ground.  Mother  and  Aunt  Lizzie  determined 
to  call  upon  the  loyal  ladies  of  Springfield  for  aid, 
and  made  it  their  first  business  to  see  them.  The 
ladies  of  Springfield  called  a  meeting  at  once,  and 
filled  with  gladness  the  hearts  of  the  nurses  by  pro- 
viding them  liberally  with  tents,  cots  and  bedding. 

When  our  nurses  returned  to  camp  they  were  or- 
dered to  be  on  duty  day  and  night,  relieving  each 
other  every  six  hours.  They  did  not  require  much 
time  to  set  their  own  affairs  in  order.  They  had 
brought  nothing  from  Peoria  but  their  carpet-bags 
and  an  extra  waterproof  suit.  Aunt  Lizzie's  half 
of  the  night  was  from  six  o'clock  to  midnight. 
There  were  eighty  patients.  The  surgeon  gave  her 
orders  and  medicine  for  them  all,  and  then  led  her 
to  a  tent  where  were  two  men  lying  on  the  ground, 
who,  he  told  her,  must  soon  die.  In  the  stormy 
autumn  night,  the  old  tent  flapping  in  the  wind, 
the  rain  beating  a  requiem  against  the  canvas,  she 
knelt  down  on  the  damp  earth  between  the  dying 
men  and  prayed,  while  the  tired  detail  leaned 
against  the  tent  post,  holding  a  lantern  that  shed  a 
dim  light  on  their  wan  faces.  There,  so  near  their 
homes  and  those  avIio  loved  them,  and  vet  as  com- 
7 


74        THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

fortless  as  if  far  in  the  wilderness,  the  soldiers  en- 
trusted messages  to  Aunt  Lizzie  and  wept  while 
she  prayed  with  them.  The  next  day  they  both 
died.  For  several  weeks  the  nurses  worked  night 
and  day,  each  day's  record  being  similar  to  the  first. 
In  November  the  regiment  was  ordered  to  Shaw- 
neetown,  on  the  Ohio  River,  to  go  into  winter  quar- 
ters. The  sick  begged  and  prayed  so  hard  to  go 
with  Mother  and  Aunt  Lizzie  that  the  doctor  con- 
cluded that  they  would  die  if  left  behind,  and  that 
they  could  no  more  than  die  if  they  went.  Baggage 
cars  were  secured  and  the  men  were  safely  transferred 
on  their  mattresses  to  them.  All  night  the  devoted 
nurses  went  from  car  to  car  with  their  medicines 
and  hoi  drinks  for  the  sick.  Singularly  enough, 
not  one  died  from  the  exposure.  At  Cairo  all  were 
put  on  board  the  steamer  "  Montgomery,"  and  pass- 
ing up  the  Ohio  River,  arrived  safely  at  Shawnee- 
town,  Illinois.  Here  they  found  a  large  stone 
building  already  partially  fitted  up  as  a  hospital. 
One  little  room  was  assigned  to  the  ladies.  The 
carpenter  had  built  two  berths  against  the  wall; 
these,  filled  with  straw,  without  pillows,  were  their 
beds.  Though  rude,  they  were  comfortable,  as  a 
comical  little  incident  shows :  Once  when  at  mid- 
night Aunt  Lizzie  crept  into  her  berth,  she  was 
startled  by  a  mouse  that  ran  under  her  hand. 
Though  a  very  brave  woman,  she  could  not  sleep 


AUNT  LIZZIE."  75 


in  peace  with  a  mouse  in  her  bed.  In  dismay  she 
jumped  out  upon  the  floor,  the  little  creature 
following:  her.  She  now  thought  that  the  coast  was 
clear  and  that  she  might  return  to  her  couch,  but, 
on  lying  down,  she  found  the  mouse  had  made  a 
nest  in  the  corner,  and  five  little  fellows  began  to 
squirm  and  squeak.  Much  sleep  that  night  was  out 
of  the  question. 

All  winter  the  nurses  worked  day  and  night, 
six  hours  of  service  alternating  with  six  of  rest. 
Aunt  Lizzie  passed  a  busy  winter.  Every  after- 
noon she  accompanied  the  doctor,  carrying  the  ink- 
stand, telling  the  name  and  symptoms  of  each  pa- 
tient in  the  four  wards,  and  giving  full  information 
concerning  all  new  cases.  She  also  superintended 
the  changing  of  bed  linen,  the  administration  of 
medicine,  the  laying  out  of  the  dead,  beside  calling 
the  roll  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  nine  at 
night.  The  number  of  the  sick  varied  from  twenty 
to  eighty  all  winter. 

There  came  weeks  when  their  comforts  were  very 
few,  when  the  poor  sick  boys  were  compelled  to 
live  on  corn-bread  and  bean -coffee.  Then  to  cheer 
them,  Aunt  Lizzie  read  a  ballad  descriptive  of  the 
sufferings  of  the  Eevolutionary  soldiers  at  Yalley 
Forge,  but  hardly  with  the  result  at  which  she 
aimed.  "  I  wept,"  she  writes,  "my  poor  boys  wept, 
the  officers  wept,  we  felt  the  verses  to  be  so  appro- 
priate to  our  circumstances." 


76        THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

One  stormy  afternoon  several  patients  were 
brought  in.  Among  them  was  a  man  about  thirty - 
fiYe  years  old,  ill  with  rheumatism.  He  was  very 
cross.  Indeed,  as  Aunt  Lizzie  passed  along,  his  com- 
rades told  her  in  whispers  how  very  ill-natured  he 
wras,  and  besought  her  not  to  mind  him  if  he  were 
petulant  with  her.  The  man  had  been  a  shoemaker 
and  had  taken  his  kit  of  tools  into  camp  with  him. 
When  he  was  brought  to  the  hospital  the  surgeon 
allowed  him  to  keep  it  under  his  pillow.  Aunt 
Lizzie  spied  these  tools  as  she  came  in  with  his  sup- 
per on  a  little  tray,  and  divining  at  once  his  fond- 
ness for  them,  and  the  home-sickness  that  made 
him  cling  to  anything  connected  with  his  former 
life,  thought  to  herself  how  she  might  cheer  him. 
A  silly  little  song  about  a  shoemaker,  that  she  had 
learned  when  a  girl,  came  into  her  mind,  and  in- 
stantly she  began  to  sing  it,  with  its  rattling  chorus. 

"  With  a  rang-tang-tang  diddle-do." 

This  set  all  the  sick  men  into  a  roar  of  laughter, 
and  pleased  the  cross  shoemaker  so  much,  that  he 
forgot  to  be  ill-natured  from  this  time  on.  As  for 
Aunt  Lizzie,  he  almost  worshipped  her,  and  often  re- 
quested her  to  sing  "  his  little  song."  The  'foolish 
ditty  helped  him  more  than  medicine,  and  filled  a 
niche  in  the  world  of  which  its  writer  probably 
never  dreamed. 

Aunt  Lizzie's  cheerfulness  and   readv  tact  won 


AUNT  LIZZIE r 


her  many  friends,  who  did  not  forget  her  when  they 
left  the  hospital.  Their  bill  of  fare  had  been  for  a 
long  time  soup,  rice,  barley,  coffee,  or  what  passed 
for  it,  with'molasses  to  sweeten  it,  and  bread  baked 
by  an  old  woman  in  the  village,  not  always  very  ap- 
petizing. One  day  Aunt  Lizzie  went  into  the  dis- 
pensary for  medicine,  when  a  young  man,  who  had 
been  discharged  from  the  hospital  as  cured,  came  in 
ostensibly  on  the  same  errand.  His  real  business, 
however,  was  to  smuggle  a  hot  mince  pie  to  Aunt 
Lizzie.  In  the  goodness  of  his  heart  he  had  bought 
it  for  her  as  a  great  luxury,  but  unfortunately  he 
did  not  understand  the  nature  of  pies,  and,  in  order 
to  carry  it  safely,  put  it  under  his  arm,  inside  his 
overcoat.  Of  course  the  contents  all  ran  out,  and, 
as  it  was  against  the  rules  to  bring  food  into  the 
hospital,  he  stood  in  danger  of  being  sent  to  the 
guard-house.  But  Aunt  Lizzie  came  to  the  rescue 
by  taking  all  the  responsibility  upon  herself.  She 
stepped  up  to  him,  as  he  stood  in  blank  dismay  at 
the  disaster,  and  took  the  pie  saying,  "  Ah,  Tom, 
my  boy,  yon  did  bring  my  pie,  didn't  you?"  The 
poor  fellow  was  greatly  chagrined  at  the  failure  of 
his  plan  to  procure  a  good  dinner  for  his  kind 
nurse. 

In  January,  1S62,  Aunt  Lizzie  writes: 

"  Quite  a  little  incident  took  place  yesterday;  we,  as  nurses, 
were  sworn  into  the  United  States'  service.     *    *    *    *    Dr. 


78         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

Niglas  tells  me  I  have  saved  the  lives  of  over  four  hundred  men. 
I  am  afraid  I  hardly  deserve  the  compliment.  General  Grant, 
General  Sturgis,  and  General  Sherman  paid  us  a  visit.  All 
join  in  saying  we  excel  all  other  hospitals  in  being^attentive  to 
our  sick  and  in  cleanliness. r  They  suggested  my  going  to  Cairo. 
Dr.  Nigl as  spurned  the  proposition,  and  I  did  too.  I  cannot 
tell  you  how  well  this  work  suits  this  restless  heart  of  mine; 
my  great  desire  to  do  something  to  benefit  my  fellow-creatures 
is  gratified  in  my  present  occupation." 

•  In  February,  Forts  Henry  and  Donelson  were 
captured  by  the  Union  army  under  General  Grant. 
The  soldiers,  though  victors  in  the  end,  endured 
untold  suffering.  During  four  nights  of  the  bit- 
terest weather,  they  encamped  around  Fort  Donel- 
son in  the  driving  storm,  without  tents  or  fire,  and 
many  were  destitute  even  of  blankets.  The  wound- 
ed lay  moaning  on  the  snow,  their  cries  growing 
fainter  and  fainter  as  they  froze  to  death  on  the 
cold  ground.  As  soon  as  possible,  those  who  sur- 
vived were  placed  on  boats  and  taken  down  the 
river  to  the  hospitals,  many  of  them  to  Shawn ee- 
town.  The  first  boat  arrived  with  its  burden  of  grief 
and  suffering  under  the  dark  shadow  of  a  stormy, 
wintry  night.  The  surgeon  came  to  the  ward  where 
Aunt  Lizzie  was  giving  medicine,  and  said,  "Aunt 
Lizzie,  the  wounded  from  Fort  Donelson  have  come, 
cannot  you  go  down  and  help  them  disembark?" 
It  was  the  first  time  that  any  wounded  had  been 
brought  under  her  care.  To  sickness  in  almost 
all  its  forms  she  had  become  accustomed.     With 


AUNT  lizzie:'  79 


a  heavy  heart  she  walked  through  the  rain  to 
the  boat,  with  four  soldiers  detailed  to  assist  her. 
"When  they  reached  the  wharf,  Aunt  Lizzie  took 
her  stand  by  the  gang-plank,  with  her  little  cup 
of  wine  ready  to  be  held  to  the  lips  of  the  dying, 
if  so  she  might  restore  the  life,  flickering  on  the 
ashy  lips.  The  first  stretcher  was  brought  off  the 
boat  and  set  down  before  her.  As  the  soldiers 
stood  it  gently  on  the  ground,  she  cried,  "Let  me 
look,  let  me  look."  In  silence  the  oil-cloth  blanket 
was  lifted,  and  there  lay,  with  his  dead  hands  folded 
under  his  cheek,  and  the  life  blood  frozen  on  his 
side,  a  widow's  offering  to  her  country.  Aunt 
Lizzie  recognized  him  in  a  moment.  It  was  one 
of  the  boys  who  had  left  home  in  the  first  regiment 
that  marched  out  of  Peoria.  But  this  was  no  time 
for  tears,  so  Aunt  Lizzie,  stifling  her  emotions, 
spent  a  busy  night  in  attending  to  the  wants  of 
these  poor,  wounded,  half-frozen  men. 

All  through  this  dreary  month  of  February,  the 
rain  fell  in  torrents.  The  hospital  was  entirely 
surrounded  with  water,  and  all  the  sick  were  brought 
from  the  camp  on  flat-boats.  No  wonder  that  many 
died  with  typhoid  pneumonia.  Every  few  days  the 
inmates  of  the  hospital  were  agitated  by  orders  to 
march  hither  and  thither,  which  when  all  prepara- 
tions had  been  made,  were  suddenly  countermand- 
ed.    Amid  such  bustle  and  confusion,  the  daily,  aye, 


SO         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

and  the  nightly  work  went  on.  Aunt  Lizzie  writes, 
u  Twenty-four  nights  in  succession  I  have  sat  up 
till  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  dealing  out  medi- 
cine; I  cannot  think  of  leaving  these  poor  fellows 
if  there  is  any  chance  of  their  living.  I  have  for 
the  last  month  written  ten  letters  a  week.  I  corres- 
pond with  four  Ladies'  Aid  Societies." 

Our  story  during  these  years  of  hospital  life  is 
necessarily  a  sad  one.  The  record  of  sickness, 
suffering  and  death  is  not  cheering,  but  the  dark 
background  serves  to  throw  out  into  the  the  strong- 
est light  the  good  deeds  of  those  who  served,  and 
the  patience  and  Christian  resignation  of  those  who 
endured. 

The  last  of  February  the  regiment  was  ordered 
to  Paducah,  Kentucky.  Six  companies  left  Shaw- 
neetown  at  once,  the  remainder  waiting  for  the  next 
boat.  The  hospital  was  not  moved  until  the  rest 
had  embarked,  in  order  that  all  the  sick  might  be 
gathered  in  before  they  started.  On  Tuesday  after- 
noon, the  fourth  of  March,  the  last  battalion  and 
all  the  hospital  patients  left,  going,  however,  only 
as  far  as  Southland,  Kentucky.  Each  battalion  was 
entitled  to  a  nurse,  so  Major  Xiglas,  head  surgeon 
of  the  regiment,  not  wishing  to  separate  Mrs.  Sturgis 
and  her  daughter,  took  them  with  him  to  Paducah, 
where  the  larger  part  of  the  regiment  was  already 
stationed.     Aunt  Lizzie  was  left  with  the  assistant 


AC  XT  LIZZIE."  81 


surgeon  to  care  for  the  sick  at  Smithland.  A  tavern 
was  seized  upon  for  a  hospital,  and  in  a  few  hours 
all  were  made  as  comfortable  as  possible  under  the 
circumstances. 

A  few  extracts  from  letters  will  tell  the  story  of 
the  first  few  days  at  Paducah,  better  than  any 
description  of  mine: 

"  The  doctor  would  not  take  the  Post  Hospital,  and  one  bat- 
talion would  not  justify  him  in  opening  one  of  his  own,  there- 
fore, after  spending  three  days  with  them,  I  left  Smithland  for 
Paducah,  to  join  the  old  doctor  and  his  crew,  or  to  be  discharged, 
I  did  not  know  which.  The  doctor,  Major  Xiglas,  gave  me  a 
hearty  welcome,  and  I  went  on  duty  the  same  night.  Our 
school-house  is  crowded  to  overflowing,  although  two  stones 
h:gh.  A  neat  little  cottage  in  the  lot  adjoining  our  hospital 
has  been  rented,  where  all  the  cooking  is  done.  We  ladies 
have  a  pleasant  front  room.     *    *     *     * 

"  I  do  hope  I  shall  .be  able  to  act  as  nurse  during  the  cam- 
paign; knowing  the  wants  and  sufferings  of  the  poor  soldiers, 
I  should  be  perfectly  wretched  to  return  home." 

A  little  later  she  writes: 

"  Great  threats  are  made  against  us,  yet  I  never  was  so  free 
from  fear  in  my  life,  for  I  do  feel,  Mother,  that  our  cause  is  just. 
A  dispatch  was  sent  to  Cairo  for  two  regiments.  They  re- 
ceived the  word  at  eleven  last  night;  at  nine  this  morning  they 
were  marching  up  Broadway.  I  do  believe  some  of  the  revo- 
lutionary blood  is  yet  in  my  veins;  the  worth  of  my  liberty,  my 
country  is  everything;  but  it  is  time  to  go  on  duty." 

"  We  have  eleven  hospitals  in  this  city.  I  am  at  St.  Mark's, 
the  First  Baptist  Church.  It  is  a  very  large  edifice,  will  hold 
five  hundred  patients.  We  have  fifteen  hundred  changes  of 
clothing.     My  dear  Mother,  I  have  so  much  to  stimulate  me  in 


82         THE  STOBY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

my  arduous  work.  I  seo  represented  in  our  linen  closet,  Mass- 
achusetts, Rhode  Island,  Maine,  New  Hampshire,  Vermont, 
Connecticut,  New  Jersey,  New  York,  Pennsylvania,  Ohio,  In- 
diana, Michigan,  Wisconsin,  Iowa,  and  Illinois.  It  would 
astonish  you  to  see  the  Yankee  socks:  the  heels  run,  and 
yarn  to  darn  them  with;  and  such  boxes  of  woolen  blankets, 
coverlets,  quilts,  comforts,  underclothing,  sheets,  and  pillow- 
cases."   *    *    * 

"My  task  is  not  so  hard  as  through  the  winter.  I  am  on 
duty  only  four  hours  at  a  time— at  eight  in  the  morning  and 
eight  at  night.  The  stench  of  the  wounds  is  almost  past  en- 
durance, yet  how  small  seems  the  sacrifice  on  my  part  when  I 
look  at  the  bravery  of  these  poor  fellows.  No  murmurs,  no 
complaints.1' 

To  another  she  writes: 

11  We  have  four  thousand  men  stationed  here.  With  all  the 
elegance  of  their  uniform,  all  the  beauty  of  their  drill,  all  the 
patriotism  of  their  martial  music,  my  soul  is  made  sad  when  I 
think  of  the  background  of  sighs  and  groans  of  the  dying.  In 
going  through  the  long  rows  of  wounded  men,  such  fortitude  I 
never  saw;  not  a  groan,  not  a  murmur  escapes  their  lips.  As 
for  myself,  my  endurance  astonishes  me.  Let  some  poor  fellow 
say :  '  Cannot  Aunt  Lizzie  stand  by  me  through  the  amputa- 
tion, and  hold  my  hand?  '  and  let  me  hear  it,  I  cannot  refuse 
to  do  anything  to  alleviate  his  sufferings.  I  shall  look  for  a 
letter  from  mother  soon.  Tell  her  I  am  about  my  Master's  busi- 
ness. Don't  worry  about  me.  Could  you  be  present  and  see  a 
soldier  die,  hear  the  last  expression  that  falls  from  his  lips, 
as  he  tells  me:  *  Say  to  my  mother  that  I  am  my  country's 
sacrifice;  say  to  my  wife,  may  she  and  my  children  enjoy  peace 
and  freedom,'  you  would  not  wonder  that  I  feel  that  I  must 
remain." 

Indeed,  the  sending  of  messages  to  the  relatives 


AUNT  LIZZIE."  83 


of  the  dying  was  no  small  part  of  the  work  of  a 
faithful  hospital  nurse.  Often  Aunt  Lizzie  left  the 
stifling  hospital  ward,  after  four  hours  of  incessant 
toil,  and  the  mental  strain  that  invariably  comes 
from  the  sight  of  such  suffering;  but  when  she 
reached  her  quiet  chamber  in  the  parsonage,  she 
could  not  take  the  much  needed  rest.  Far  into  the 
nisrht  she  wrote  letters  bearing  the  last  sorrowful 
messages  of  love,  fresh  from  the  lips  of  the  dying. 
The  little  tablets  that  she  carried  about  in  her 
pocket  were  always  filled  with  such  memoranda. 
To  her  unwearied  labors  in  this  direction,  how 
many  owe  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  their 
loved  ones  passed  away  breathing  a  last  prayer  for 
dear  friends  far  away. 

It  was  at  Paducah  that  Aunt  Lizzie  first  came  in 
contact  with  the  Sanitary  Commission.  "When  she 
took  charge,  as  head  nurse,  of  St.  Mark's  Hospital, 
she  found  the  basement  full  of  boxes  from  seven 
different  States,  even  from  those  as  far  west  as  Iowa 
and  Minnesota.  Not  only  were  there,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  large  quantities  of  bed  linen  and  cloth- 
ing, but  also  boxes  of  bandages  and  barrels  of  lint, 
as  well  as  all  kinds  of  portable  luxuries  suitable  for 
the  sick.  After  her  long  worry  during  the  winter, 
when  she  could  hardly  procure  anything  fit  for  her 
patients  to  eat,  and  when  men  voted  as  to  who  should 
be  the  happy  possessor  of  a  pillow,  this  unwonted 


S4         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

abundance  filled  her  with  enthusiasm.  The  sympa- 
thy displayed  for  the  soldiers  by  women  all  over  the 
land,  from  Maine  to  Minnesota,  could  but  stimulate 
and  encourage  her.  As  she  herself  says,  sue  felt 
the  heart  of  the  nation  throbbing  for  the  wounded. 
The  battle  of  Shiloh  was  fought  at  the  beginning 
of  April.  Like  so  many  of  our  battles,  it  lasted  for 
two  days.  The  Union  troops  were  first  repulsed, 
and  then,  being  re-enforced,  repulsed  the  enemy  with 
success,  and  regained  all  the  prisoners  and  stores 
that  they  had  lost.  There  was  great  slaughter  and 
suffering  on  both  sides.  The  wounded  were  sent  on 
boats  to  Paducah,  laid  in  long  rows  on  the  floor, 
with  grass  packed  between  them,  and  a  bit  of  hard- 
tack in  their  pockets.  Many  were  dying,  many 
were  already  dead  as  the  boat,  bearing  a  load  of 
wounded  for  St.  Mark's,  swung  to  shore  at  Paducah. 
Ah!  what  a  test  of  her  womanly  fortitude  was  it, 
when  Aunt  Lizzie  went  down  the  plank  into  this 
crowd  of  sorrow.  The  wounded  were  packed  so 
closely  together  that  she  could  hardly  step  between 
them;  many  of  them  had  bled  to  death,  and  as  she 
went  from  one  to  another,  the  tide  of  their  stream- 
ing life-blood  wet  her  feet.  The  surgeon  stood  in 
the  hatchway,  and  gave  her  orders  to  administer  to 
each  a  swallow  of  wine.  "With  a  little  china  cup 
tied  to  her  belt,  she  went  among  them  lifting  their 
fainting  heads  and  begging  them  for  their  lives  to 


AUNT  LIZZIES  So 


take  some  nourishment.  Never  in  her  life  had  she 
performed  a  mission  so  holy.  After  her  came  the 
details  with  pails  of  chicken-broth,  giving  those  who 
could  take  it  a  little  at  a  time,  till  they  recovered 
strength  to  endure  the  anguish  of«  being  lifted  and 
laid  on  stretchers,  and  carried  to  the  hospital.  It 
is  one  of  the  wonders  of  human  nature,  that  such 
scenes  as  this  develop  the  most  sublime  unselfish- 
ness. As  Aunt  Lizzie  pressed  her  cup  to  the  lips  of 
those  suffering  men,  lying  in  their  blood,  the}T  looked 
up  into  her  face  and  faintly  whispered,  "don't  for- 
get my  comrade."  "  My  boys  "  she  answered,  in  her 
hearty,  cheerful  way,  which  is  always  as  good  a  tonic 
as  a  cup  of  wine,  "  my  boys,  I  will  come  to  every 
one  of  you." 

As  the  line  of  stretchers  crept  slowly  to  the  hospi- 
tal, it  looked  like  one  long  funeral  procession. 
Aunt  Lizzie  stood  watching  them  as  they  passed, 
quite  unconscious  in  her  excitement,  that  her  gar- 
ments were  dyed  crimson  with  blood.  One  young 
man,  in  his  helplessness,  looked  up  at  her  most 
pitifully  and  said, 

"  Mother  do  you  see  me?" 

"  Yes,  my  son,"  she  replied,  "  I  see  that  you  have 
lost  an  arm." 

"But  look  again,"  he  said,  and  then  she  saw  that 
a  leg  had  also  been  shot  away.  He  reached  out  his 
trembling  hand  and  said  faintly, 


86         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

"  Oli  Mother  if  you  could  but  take  niy  hand  and 
walk  along  beside  me." 

"  Certainly,"  she  answered,  "  I  will." 

They  had  gone  but  a  few  steps  when  the  blood 
spurted  from  the  wounded  arm.  The  bearers  care- 
fully set  him  down,  while  Aunt  Lizzie  snatched  a 
compress  from  her  pocket  and  applied  it.  In  a  few 
minutes  she  saw  the  gray  shadow  of  exhaustion 
steal  over  his  face.  Looking  up  at  her  he  sighed, 
"  I  am  so  faint,  what  shall  I  do?"  She  adminis- 
tered a  spoonful  of  wine,  when  he  exclaimed,  "What 
can  I  do?"  Her  mother-heart  full  of  tenderness, 
and  her  eyes  full  of  tears,  she  said, 

"My  son,  my  son,  look,  to  Jesus." 

"O,  I  know,  I  know  I  must  look  to  Him,"  was 
the  answer. 

After  a  moment's  pause,  as  he  was  sinking  in 
death,  he  gazed  up  into  heaven,  and  crying  gladly, 
"I  look,  I  look,"  passed  away,  "looking  unto  Jesus." 

During  four  weeks  the  toil  of  the  devoted  nurses 
was  incessant.  Among  others,  Colonel  St.  Clair 
Bass,  of  the  Thirty-first  Indiana  Regiment,  was 
brought  in  with  many  of  his  regiment,  fatally  woun- 
ded. Through  the  long  days  that  elapsed  before  he 
died,  he  never  uttered  agroa  or  a  murmur,  but  at 
every  cry  from  his  soldiers  he  exclaimed  "  oh  my 
noble  boys,  my  poor  boys,  take  care  of  them,  they 
fought  so  bravely."      His  wife  and  children  came 


AUNT  LIZZIE."  87 


just  in  time  to  see  him  die,  but  he  did  not  recognize 
them.  Mrs.  Bass  has  kindly  furnished  an  account 
of  this  sad  time,  from  which  we  quote.  "  One  o'clock 
on  the  morning  of  the  fourteenth  of  April  found  us 
at  Paducah,  anxiously  searching  from  one  hospital 
to  another,  all  churches,  for  St.  Mark's.  At  last  we 
reached  it,  gave  the  pass-word  and  were  admitted  by 
the  sentinel,  who  sent  an  orderly  to  inform  the  nurse 
in  charge  of  our  arrival.  The  orderly  returned,  say- 
ing, c  Aunt  Lizzie  has  had  Col.  Bass  moved  to  the 
linen-room, — you  may  come.'  I  can  never  forget 
Aunt  Lizzie's  whispered  salutation:  "Dear  child, 
you  have  come,  but  I  fear  too  late;  still  this  kiss  is 
yours,  for  he  said,  i  Give  it  to  Eliza  if  she  comes  too 
late,"  and,  hush  dear  children,  your  only  hope  for 
recognition  from  husband,  father  or  brother  is  in 
quiet  watching  and  waiting  for  the  possible  con- 
scious moment.'  A  pallet  of  blue  coats  was  made  on 
the  floor  for  the  child,  while  we  watched,  waited  and 
hoped  for  the  word  or  token  that  never  came.  With 
the  first  grey  streak  of  dawn  Aunt  Lizzie  closed  the 
eyes,  composed  the  features — the  brave  soul  had 
passed  away." 

"  Can  we  whose  loved  ones  have  received  in  sick- 
ness and  in  death  such  tender  care  as  Aunt  Lizzie 
with  her  loving  heart  and  deep  religious  nature 
gives  to  all,  ever  be  grateful  enough?  Gratitude 
should  take   a   more  substantial  form    than  mere 


8S         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

appreciation.  Aunt  Lizzie  has  earned  the  right  to 
begin  her  future  reward  here  on  earth,  and  it  should 
be  said  to  her  by  actions  as  well  as  words,  '  rest 
from  labor.'  " 

Though  a  little  aside  from  our  purpose,  we  can- 
not refrain  from  finishing  this  sad  story. 

Col.  Bass,  although  at  the  head  of  an  Indiana 
regiment,  was  a  native  of  Kentucky,  having  been 
born  within  thirty  miles  of  Paducah.  His  father 
arrived  after  he  had  been  placed  in  his  coffin.  Aunt 
Lizzie  approached  the  aged  mourner  as  he  gazed  on 
the  dead,  and  quietly  said:  "  He  left  this  message, 
1  Tell  my  father,  if  I  do  not  live  to  see  him,  how  hard 
I  struggled  to  sustain  the  principles  of  saving  the 
L mi  on.'  " 

The  old  man,  bowed  with  age,  bent  his  grey  head 
over  the  lifeless  countenance,  and  with  a  look  of 
almost  unnatural  composure  said,  "  Well  done,  my 
son;  what  though  my  property  be  destroyed,  what 
though]  my  children  fall,  or  my  own  life  be  sacrificed, 
so  that  my  government  be  preserved!'' 

It  was  a  night  never  to  be  forgotten  by  Aunt 
Lizzie,  when  all  the  Indiana  regiments  in  Paducah 
formed  a  grand  funeral  procession,  their  weapons 
glittering  in  the  moonlight,  and  escorted  the  body 
of  Col.  Bass  to  the  boat  that  was  to  bear  it  home 
for  burial.  Behind  the  coffin  walked  bare-headed 
the  aged  father  and  one  of  Paducah's  best  judges, 


"AUNT  LIZZIE"  89 

an  intense  Union  man  and  a  schoolmate  of  the 
the  mourner,  by  his  side,  their  white  locks  blown 
about  by  the  breeze.  "  I  am  proud,"  writes  Aunt 
Lizzie,  in  the  letter  from  which  this  description  is 
taken,  "I  am  proud  of  Kentucky  Unionists;  they 
know  what  they  are  fighting  for;  they  would  make 
some  of  our  Northern  men  hide  their  heads  in 
shame." 

One  evening  in  April,  Paducah  was  visited  by  a 
tornado.  At  the  close  of  an  excessively  hot  day, 
a  storm  suddenly  arose,  accompanied  by  a  violent 
wind.  The  tin  roof  of  St.  Mark's  Hospital  was 
rolled  up  like  a  sheet  of  paper  and  carried  off,  leav- 
ing the  inmates  exposed  to  the  storm.  Aunt  Liz- 
zie's courage  rose  to  the  occasion;  she  at  once  or- 
dered the  details  to  carry  the  sick  over  to  that  part 
of  the  building  where  the  wind  was  least  heavy, 
and  spent  the  night  in  protecting  them  as  far  as 
possible  from  its  effects.  Toward  morning,  the 
surgeon  and  the  steward  came  over  to  offer  aid, 
which  Aunt  Lizzie's  energy  had  rendered  unneces- 
sary. 

In  June,  their  considerate  friend,  head-surgeon 
Kiglas,  perceiving  that  the  garments  of  Aunt  Lizzie 
and  Mother  Sturgis  were  nearly  worn  out,  suggest- 
ed to  the  Ladies'  Aid  Society  of  Springfield  the  idea 
of  replacing  them.  The  ladies  responded  by  send- 
ing an  entire  summer  outfit,  accompanied  by  a  note 


90         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

iii  which  they  say,  "  As  we  cannot  labor  ourselves 
in  the  hospitals,  we  are  very  glad  to  help  those  who 
give  their  whole  time  to  that  noble  service." 

In  the  heat  of  a  southern  June,  rAunt  Lizzie's 
morning  work  began  by  accompanying  the  doctor 
in  his  visit  to  the  wards.  This  was  immediately 
followed  by  the  oversight  of  the  ten  o'clock  lunch 
for  the  convalescents;  then  the  changing  of  all  the 
bed  linen  and  clothing  of  a  hundred  and  ten  pa- 
tients; after  that  she  seasoned  the  soup  for  dinner, 
gave  the  medicine  to  both  wards,  sang  "Rock  of 
Ages,"  or  some  other  hymn,  and  then  left  to  get 
her  own  dinner.  "My  usual  salutation  in  the 
morning,"  she  writes,  "  is,  how  are  you,  my  fellow- 
soldiers?  and  then  I  sing  to  them  'The  Eed,  White 
and  Blue,'  'Our  Flag  is  There,'  or  some  other  pat- 
riotic song." 

There  was  with  all  the  suffering,  a  comical  side 
to  hospital  life,  that  often  crops  out  in  Aunt  Lizzie's 
stories.  While  at  Paducah,  though  amply  supplied 
with  all  manner  of  sanitary  stores,  they  were  often 
sadly  in  want  of  chickens  to  make  broth  for  con- 
valescents. There  was  an  immense  "  secesh  "  roost- 
er, which  annoyed  them  greatly  by  crowing  with 
great  vigor  at  unseasonable  hours,  behind  the  hos- 
pital, lie  was  an  overgrown  Shanghai,  of  ancient 
birth — in  fact  belonged  to  one  of  the  first  families  ; 
at  least  Aunt  Lizzie  thought  when  she  tried  to  cook 


" AUNT  LIZZIE."  91 


him  that  he  probably  came  out  of  the  ark.  One 
day  as  she  stood  by  the  window  pondering  over 
ways  and  means  for  feeding  her  patients,  she  hap- 
pened to  see  this  patriarch,  and  it  occurred  to  her 
that  he  was  contraband  of  war,  and  that  she  might 
lawfully  confiscate  him  to  make  a  feast  for  her  boys. 
Very  early  in  the  morning,  she  sent  three  men  to 
catch  him,  when  unfortunately  he  ran  straight  into 
the  hall,  and  was  caught,  shrieking  as  only  an  an- 
cient fowl  can,  directly  in  front  of  the  head  sur- 
geon's room.  In  a  minute  or  two,  the  door  was 
opened  by  the  surgeon  in  dressing  gown  and  slip- 
pers, with  a  little  black  smoking  cap  on  his  head, 
very  angry  indeed  at  having  his  morning  nap  dis- 
turbed. He  threatened  to  send  the  soldiers  to  the 
guard  house,  and  bade  them  let  the  rooster  go,  to 
stop  his  noise.  Aunt  Lizzie,  on  the  other  hand,  was 
determined  not  to  lose  her  chicken  broth  at  this 
late  hour.  Standing  invisible  behind  the  front 
door  she  whispered,  "  My  boys,  don't  you  dare  to 
leave  your  victim  unslain.  If  you  are  sent  to  the 
guard  house,  let  me  know  and  I  will  defend  you. " 
The  result  was  that  about  the  time  the  old  rebel  was 
ready  for  the  pot,  an  orderly  came  in  search  of 
Aunt  Lizzie.  The  surgeon  had  caused  the  soldiers 
to  be  arrested,  and  they  had  sent  for  her  to  help 
them  out  of  their  difficulty.  When  she  opened  the 
door,  she  saw  that  the  doctor  was  still  very  much 


92         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

incensed,  and  probably  would  not  listen  to  any  of 
her  explanations,  while  the  three  boys  stood  regard- 
ing her  with  rueful  looks.  She  perceived  at  once 
that  nothing  could  be  done,  unless  she  could  sur- 
prise the  surgeon  into  good  nature,  so  putting  her 
linger  in  her  mouth,  and  hanging  her  head  like  a 
naughty  child,  she  walked  into  the  room  with  an 
air  of  the  greatest  dejection.  The  surgeon  looked 
up  sternly. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  he  said. 

"  I'm  afraid,  sir,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Afraid  of  what?"  asked  the  doctor,  somewhat 
astonished. 

"  I'm  afraid  you'll  scold  me,  sir,"  said  Aunt  Liz- 
zie, still  apparently  very  penitent.  Her  pitiful  look 
caused  him  to  succumb.  He  laughed  and  said, 
"Boys  go  to  your  regiment,  and  Aunt  Lizzie,  go 
you  to  your  wounded;  but  catch  no  more  hens  so 
early  in  the  morning." 

Four  days  they  cooked  that  ancient  fowl.  Every 
day  he  made  a  good  pot-full  of  broth,  and  grew 
tougher  and  tougher.  How  old  he  was  still  re- 
mains a  mystery. 

As  the  seat  of  war  shifted  to  the  South  and  West, 
the  hospitals  naturally  followed  in  the  track  of  the 
armies,  in  order  to  be  near  the  battlefields.  Ac- 
cordingly, on  the  twenty-first  of  July,  the  hospital  of 
the  Sixth  Illinois  Cavalry  was  ordered  to  Memphis, 


AUNT  LIZZIE r  93 


Tennessee,  which  had  been  in  possession  of  the 
Union  troops  for  more  than  two  months,  and  was 
considered  secure  from  attacks  of  the  enemy.  A 
great  number  of  the  wounded  were  sent  home. 
Still  there  were  some  two  hundred  and  eighty  left  to 
be  cared  for.  These  were  carefully  carried  on  board 
the  steamer,  "Prima  Donna,"  and  tended  by  their 
faithful  nurses.  At  Cairo  they  parted  with  Surgeon 
^Niglas,  who  was  forced  to  return  for  some  time,  to 
Peoria,  and  who  left  his  patients  with  confidence  to 
the  care  of  Aunt  Lizzie  and  Mother  Stnrgis.  At 
Columbus,  they  took  as  escort,  a  large  gun-boat  with 
twelve  cannon,  and  in  this  war-like  manner  pro- 
ceeded down  the  Mississippi. 

About  three  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  the  twen- 
ty-fifth of  July,  the  "  Prima  Donna"  reached  Mem- 
phis, passing  to  the  wharf  between  two  large  gun- 
boats, stationed  as  guard  before  the  city. 

A  large,  unfinished,  brick  building  was  at  first 
occupied  as  a  hospital,  and  the  sick  and  wounded 
of  the  regiment,  many  of  whom  were  already  In 
other  hospitals,  were  brought  to  it.  The  very  after- 
noon that  she  arrived,  the  officers  of  the  regiment 

'  CD 

called  upon  Aunt  Lizzie  and  insisted  upon  her  taking 
the  sick  from  the  camp.  The  boys  themselves 
begged  to  come,  willing  to  trust  to  her  skill  till  the 
doctor  should  return.  She  also  found,  already  in 
the  United  States  Hospital,  thirty  of  the  soldiers  of 


94         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

her  regiment,  who  were  delighted  that  she  had 
come.  One  young  man  saw  her  across  the  hall,  and 
cried  out  almost  with  his  last  breath,  "  Oh,  Aunt 
Lizzie,  you  have  come  too  late,  your  boy  is  dying." 
The  sick  were  brought  from  camp  in  ambulances, 
and  while  Mother  Sturgis  and  her  daughter  saw 
them  comfortably  bestowed  in  their  cots,  Aunt  Liz- 
zie, in  her  new  role  of  doctor,  went  from  one  to 
another  and  prescribed  their  medicine.  Ten  days 
after,  when  the  doctor  arrived,  he  found  her  with 
her  fourteen  new  patients  all  doing  well.  Among 
other  diseases  she  had  treated  them  for  typhoid 
fever,  pneumonia  and  cholera  morbus.  The  surgeon 
complimented  her  as  an  apt  student,  and  she  went 
gladly  back  to  her  place  as  nurse,  content  with 
having  proved  that  she  could  play  the  part  of  doc- 
tor, if  necessary. 

Memphis  was  full  of  soldiers,  thirty  thousand 
were  encamped  in  and  around  the  town.  Among 
these  regiments  was  the  Sixth  Illinois  Cavalry, 
"  Gov.  Yates'  Legion,"  as  it  was  called,  to  which 
Aunt  Lizzie  belonged.  The  boys  out  on  picket  duty 
did  not  forget  their  friends  in  the  hospital,  but 
every  morning  brought  in  bags  of  large,  delicious 
peaches,  confiscated  in  the  suburbs.  The  stock  of 
vegetables  was  kept  up  in  the  same  way;  whatever 
luxuries  of  the  kind  had  been  planted  in  the  spring, 
around  Memphis,  were  not  lacking  to  the  sick  and 
wounded. 


AUXT  lizzie:'  95 


Aunt  Lizzie  tells  a  pitiful  story  of  four  negroes 
for  whom  she  cared  in  Memphis.  Two  men  named 
Alfred  and  Henderson,  with  their  wives  Chloe  and 
Mary  Jane,  slaves  in  Mississippi,  ran  away,  hoping 
to  reach  Memphis  and  freedom.  They  traveled  hy 
night,  and  hid  during  the  day  in  woods  and  swamps, 
subsisting  on  fruit  that  they  took  from  gardens. 
"When  near  Holly  Springs,  about  forty  miles  from 
Memphis,  they  were  discovered,  and  hunted  with 
bloodhounds.  They  rushed  into  a  swamp  overgrown 
with  thickets,  the  men  generously  covering  the  re- 
treat of  their  wives.  As  Alfred  was  escaping,  a 
hound  caught  at  the  calf  of  his  leg  and  stripped  off 
the  flesh  clown  to  the  heel.  Still  he  persisted  in 
trying  to  get  away,  and  their  pursuers  were  obliged 
to  shoot  both  him  and  Henderson,  before  they  would 
submit  to  being  dragged  to  the  Holly  Springs'  jail. 
A  part  of  Aunt  Lizzie's  regiment  was  stationed 
near,  and  the  Colonel  hearing  of  the  occurrence, 
took  a  squad  of  men,  opened  the  jail,  and  sent  the 
poor  fugitives  to  the  hospital  at  Memphis.  Aunt 
Lizzie  dressed  their  wounds,  and  took  care  of  them 
for  nearlv  a  month.  But  owin^  to  the  severity  of 
the  wounds  and  consequent  exposure,  the  men  died. 
They  were  both  true  Christians  and  sang  many 
camp-meeting  hymns  which  Aunt  Lizzie  had  never 
heard  before.  She  learned  from  them,  "  AYe're  go- 
ing home  to  die  no  more,"  which  thev  sang  often 


96         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

and  with  great  fervor.  As  Alfred  was  dying,  lie 
thanked  his  kind  nurse  for  her  care,  and  added, 
"  Missus,  I've  gave  my  life  for  my  freedom,  but  I 
shall  soon  be  with  Jesus."  The  two  women  had 
been  unhurt  in  the  scuffle,  and  gladly  gave  their 
services  to  the  hospital.  Mary  Jane  died  after  two 
years  of  faithful  service.     Chloe  still  survives. 

In  October,  the  hospital  was  removed  to  the  resi- 
dence of  Colonel  Hunt,  on  Beale  Street.  The  Colo- 
nel and  his  family  were  not  at  home,  having  fled 
from  the  city  on  the  approach  of  General  Grant. 
Everything  had  been  left  in  their  flight,  even  to  two 
old  negroes — Aunt  Judy  and  her  husband  Sam. 
The  house  had  been  General  Grant's  head-quarters 
when  he  entered  the  city.  It  stood  in  the  middle  of 
a  ten-acre  garden,  surrounded  by  noble  evergreens, 
fully  thirty  years  old,  and  many  magnolia  trees. 
The  house  contained  fifteen  rooms,  elegantly  fur- 
nished. Miss  Babcock  of  Chicago,  occupied  the 
back  parlor  with  Aunt  Lizzie.  This  room,  filled 
with  luxurious  lounges  and  arm-chairs,  was  so 
great  a  contrast  to  their  former  quarters,  that  Aunt 
Lizzie  found  herself  wishing  that  they  might  be 
permitted  to  stay  there  all  winter.  One  side  of  the 
large  room  was  fitted  up  with  shelves  to  hold  the 
bed  linen  and  garments  of  the  sick.  Miss  Babcock 
had  just  returned  from  Chicago,  laden  with  gifts 
from  the  church  to  which  she  belonged,  to  gladden 


aunt  lizzie:'  07 


the  hearts  of  all  by  her  goodness  and  helpfulness. 
At  this  time  she  superintended  the  laundry,  and 
filled  the  place  of  housekeeper  to  the  entire  family. 
Aunt  Judy  did  the  cooking.  Aunt  Lizzie  and 
Mother  Sturgis  had  charge  of  the  hospital. 

Across  the  road  was  the  Medical  College,  filled 
with  wounded,  and  scattered  about  the  garden  were 
hospital  tents.  Exposure  in  passing  from  one  to 
another  of  these,  during  the  chilly  autumnal  rains, 
brought  on  a  violent  attack  of  inflammatory  rheu- 
matism, which  laid  Aunt  Lizzie  on  a  bed  of  pain 
for  four  long  weeks.  The  suffering  that  she  endured 
was  violent  in  itself,  but  was  rendered  more  unbear- 
able by  her  hearing  the  cries  of  those  whom  she 
could  no  longer  assist.  One  poor  boy,  shot  through 
the  foot,  lay  at  the  end  of  the  long  hall,  and  often 
cried  out  in  some  paroxysm  of  pain:  "Oh  God! 
oh  God  ! "  Up  stairs  an  old  wounded  captain 
moaned:  "  Oh  Lord!  oh  Lord!  "  and  as  she  heard 
them,  Aunt  Lizzie  comprehended  both  herself,  and 
them,  and  all  the  wounded,  in  one  petition,  and 
prayed:     u  Oh  God,  oh  Lord  have  mercy!" 

In  November  the  Sixth  Illinois  Cavalry  was  or- 
dered South,  but  Surgeon  Xiglas  did  not  consider 
it  advisable  that  the  nurses  should  follow  their 
march  into  the  enemy's  country.  He  therefore  left 
them  in  Memphis,  having  secured  places  for  them 
0 


9S         THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 


at  tlie  Ovington  Hospital.  Aunt  Lizzie  and  Moth- 
er Stnrgis  thus  ceased  to  be  the  nurses  of  a  regi- 
ment, and  entered  upon  a  broader  work  in  the 
general  hospitals  of  Memphis. 


CHAPTEE  V. 

AUNT  LIZZIE    IN    THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS. 

The  Ovington  Hospital  Lad  formerly  been  the 
finest  hotel  in  Memphis,  and  was  under  the  care  of 
six  sisters  of  the  Holy  Cross,  and  six  Protestant 
nurses.  Aunt  Lizzie  had  charge  of  AVard  A.  in 
which  lay  over  a  hundred  sick  and  wounded  men. 
Here  she  remained  until  the  early  part  of  January, 
1S63.  The  weather  during  November  and  Decem- 
ber was  very  severe.  Snow  storms  were  frequent 
and  the  cold  unusual.  The  hospital,  having  been 
built  for  a  hotel,  had  wide  iron  stair-cases.  The 
exposure  and  chill  incident  to  passing  over  these 
stairs  and  through  the  vast  unheated  halls  was  such 
that  many  of  the  nurses  could  not  endure  it,  and 
were  forced  to  return  home.  Strange  as  it  may 
seem,  though  just  recovering  from  her  attack  of 
rheumatism,  the  pressure  of  work  seemed  to  do 
Aunt  Lizzie  good.  Though  taking  the  responsi- 
bility of  caring  for  a  hundred  patients,  with  an  eye 
to  the  work  of  the  diet-room  on  the  floor,  she  was 
(99) 


100      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 


mucli  more  able  to  endure  the  fatigue  than  many 
who  came  fresh  and  well  from  home. 

"When  Sherman's  army  started  from  Memphis 
on  the  first  expedition  against  Yicksburg,  Aunt  Liz- 
zie stood  and  watched  those  thousands  of  brave  men 
as  they  marched  past  in  the  sunshine  of  the  bright 
winter  day.  All  the  bands  played,  the  flags  waved, 
and  the  weapons  flashed  in  the  sunlight;  but  well 
she  knew  that  many  of  the  soldiers  who  started 
away  with  such  eclat  would  return  to  her  for  a  word 
of  sympathy,  a  drop  of  water,  wounded  and  dying. 
And  so  it  proved  to  be.  Large  numbers  of  the 
younger  men  were  soon  smitten  with  pneumonia 
and  were  brought  back  in  ambulances.  All  night 
they  were  received  at  the  hospital.  Soon  followed 
the  wounded  of  that  disastrous  campaign,  till  the 
heart  and  hands  had  all  that  they  could  do  day  and 
night. 

One  day,  just  after  Christmas,  a  note  was  handed 
Aunt  Lizzie,  stating  that  six  hundred  sick  had  just 
arrived  at  the  Jefferson  Hospital,  and  that  her  broth- 
er Lertrand  was  among  the  number.  She  went  down 
quickly  and  found  the  street  in  front  of  the  hospital 
full  of  stretchers,  standing  in  the  snow.  The  sick 
men  lying  on  them  were  a  piteous  sight.  Many  of 
them  were  mere  skeletons,  who  looked  after  Aunt 
Lizzie  with  gaunt  and  hungry  eyes.  They  had  been 
recaptured  from  a  Southern  prison,  where  they  had 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  101 

been  almost  starved  to  death,  and  brought  up  the 
river  to  Memphis.  With  an  aching  heart  Aunt 
Lizzie  passed  about  among  them,  failing  to  dis- 
cover in  any  of  the  pinched  and  altered  faces  the 
blooming,  youthful  features  of  her  youngest  brother, 
the  pet  of  the  household.  At  last  one  of  them 
looked  wistfully  at  her  and  said,  faintly,  "  O,  Lizzie, 
how  m  uch  you  look  like  mother."  It  was  Bertrand ; 
but  oh,  how  changed!  If  he  had  not  known  her 
she  never  would  have  recognized  him;  pale,  emaci- 
ated, looking  almost  like  an  old  man.  In  spite  of 
her  joy  at  finding  him,  it  was  a  tearful  meeting. 
She  went  at  once  to  the  Medical  Director  and  had 
him  transferred  to  her  own  hospital.  The  sight  of 
his  sister  infused  new  strength  into  his  weary  limbs, 
and  he  insisted  upon  walking  up  to  Ovington  Block 
with  her.  She  took  him  into  her  own  room,  that 
she  might  devote  all  her  spare  time  to  him,  for  he 
was  far  more  ill  than  he  was  at  first  willing  to  con- 
fess. Mother  Sturgis  took  the  greatest  interest  in 
him,  and  together  they  did  all  in  their  power  to 
help  him  back  to  life  and  strength.  But  their  lov- 
ing care  availed  little.  The  foundations  of  his  vigor 
had  been  too  systematically  sapped  by  exposure  and 
starvation.  The  devoted  women  never  were  able  to  re- 
store him  to  a  point  where  he  did  not  feel  "  all 
tired  out,"  and  in  March  they  resolved  to  try  the 
effects  of  a  change  of  air.     Aunt  Lizzie  sent  him 


102      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN, 

in  care  of  friends  to  St.  Louis,  where  his  brother' 
Mr.  "Ward  Atherton,  met  him  and  took  him  home  to 
Hoyleton,  Illinois  . 

During  this  autumn  and  winter  Aunt  Lizzie 
and  Mother  Sturgis  were  sent  down  by  rail  two  or 
three  times,  to  help  bring  home  those  wounded  in 
the  frequent  skirmishes  and  fights  to  the  South  and 
East  of  Memphis.  They  found  houses,  the  win- 
dows of  which  were  all  broken  by  the  cannonading, 
full  of  the  wounded,  and  also  many  wounded  men 
still  on  the  battle-field.  Their  long  experience  had 
made  them  skillful  in  dressing  wounds,  and  they 
occupied  themselves  for  hours  in  helping  the  sur- 
geons and  administering  comfort  and  religious  con- 
solation to  the  dying.  When  the  lon^  train  was 
filled  with  sufferers,  they  fed  and  tended  them  till 
they  arrived  at  the  hospital. 

In  January,  there  being  no  longer  room  for  the 
wounded  that  poured  into  Memphis,  Aunt  Lizzie 
and  Mrs.  Sturgis  were  ordered  to  Adams  Block 
Hospital,  to  fit  it  up  with  twelve  hundred  cots. 
The  building,  which  covered  an  entire  square,  was 
five  stories  high,  and  had  been  built  for  a  hotel. 
Aunt  Lizzie  was  installed  head  nurse,  with  Mother 
Sturgis  as  ever  her  most  efficient  and  energetic 
helper.  A  large  corps  of  excellent  nurses  assisted 
them.  As  soon  as  the  hospital  was  ready,  it  was 
immediately   filled   with   wounded    brought   from 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  103 

Corinth,  'Holly  Springs  and  other  places,  who  had 
hitherto  been  lodged  in  stores  and  priyate  houses. 
Near  the  hospital  a  bakery  was  built,  to  supply  it 
with  bread.  Six  bakers  were  found  among  the 
troops,  and  sent  to  Aunt  Lizzie  that  she  might 
make  her  choice.  She  shrewdly  looked  them  all 
oyer,  laid  her  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  a  short,  little 
Englishman,  and  said,  "This  is  the  man  I  want." 
Xot  knowing  for  what  purpose  he  had  been  de- 
tailed, he  did  not  understand  the  proceeding,  and 
as  he  looked  inquiringly  at  the  officer  in  charge,  his 
grey  eyes  stood  out  with  fear.  Aunt  Lizzie,  how- 
ever, soon  put  him  at  his  ease,  and  set  him  at  pre- 
paring home-made  bread  for  her  patients.  He 
proved  to  be  a  skillful  workman. 

Occasionally  it  required  considerable  tact  to  man- 
age homesick  boys,  and  keep  them  from  dying  from 
sheer  want  of  ambition  to  live.  One  day  a  younor 
man  of  the  Second  Iowa  Cavalry  was  brought  into 
ward,  with  simply  a  flesh  wound  in  his  foot.  He 
was  laid  on'a  cot  between  two  men,  one  of  whom 
had  lost  his  arm,  and  the  other  a  leg.  These  poor, 
maimed  soldiers  were  patient  and  contented,  but 
the  young  fellow  between  them  was  almost  at  the 
point  of  death  with  homesickness  and  despondency. 
He  continually  assured  Aunt  Lizzie  that  he  knew 
he  should  die,  and  by  no  words  of  persuasion  could 
she  induce  him  to  eat. 


104:      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

One  morning  the  physician  in  liis  rounds  told  the 
good  nurse,  who  had  become  somewhat  anxious 
about  her  patient,  that  there  was  no  danger  what- 
ever from  the  wound,  but  that  he  was  really  failing 
from  want  of  nourishment.  On  entering  the  ward 
Aunt  Lizzie  urged  him  to  partake  of  some  food, 
telling  him  that  she  expected  his  mother  every  day, 
and  that  she  wanted  him  to  be  at  least  able  to  greet 
her  when  she  came.  But  all  her  persuasions  were 
in  vain.  He  thought  it  was  of  no  use  to  eat,  he 
said,  when  he  was  so  near  heaven.  He  looked  very 
sober  over  the  matter.  Aunt  Lizzie  stood  by  his 
side  with  a  little  breakfast  that  she  had  taken  great 
pains  to  render  inviting,  a  waiter  covered  with  a 
white  napkin,  a  cup  of  tea  with  a  silver  spoon,  a 
plate  of  broiled  ham,  poached  eggs  and  fried  pota- 
toes. She  put  on  as  sober  a  face  as  his  own,  and 
assured  him  that  he  need  not  talk  about  going  to 
heaven;  that  a  hungry  soul  like  him  would  not  be 
received.  "  The  Lord,"  she  went  on,  "  will  not 
welcome  one  who  goes  hungry,  when  it  is  his  duty 
to  eat." 

He  looked  up  with  great  earnestness,  and  said: 
"Do  you  really  think  so,  Aunt  Lizzie?" 

"  Why,  certainly,  certainly"  was  the  reply.  Im- 
mediately he  seized  the  plate  and  ate  everything  on 
it  with  the  greatest  relish,  amid  shouts  of  laughter 
from  everybody  in  the  room.     After  that  he  ate  with 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  105 

appetite,  as  well  as  from  a  sense  of  duty,  and  when 
his  mother  came  a  few  days  after,  and  found  him 
improving  and  cheerful,  he  told  her  that  Aunt  Liz- 
zie had  saved  his  life  by  her  little  ruse. 

After  many  unsuccessful  attempts  to  get  away 
for  a  few  days  Aunt  Lizzie  at  last  obtained  leave 
of  absence  for  a  month. 

When  refreshed  by  her  rest,  she  returned  to 
Memphis,  she  was  escorted  from  the  boat  by  ten  of 
her  boys,  who  had  come  down  to  meet  her,  and  re- 
ceived the  heartiest  greetings  from  all  her  patients, 
many  of  whom  had  counted  the  days  till  she  should 
return. 

That  same  day  as  Aunt  Lizzie  stood  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  ward,  superintending  the  bestowment 
of  wounded  brought  from  Yicksburg,  she  saw  two 
men  bring  in  a  youth  of  nineteen,  entirely  deliri- 
ous. On  seeing  her  he  cried  out  at  the  top  of  his 
voice,  "Mother,  mother,  my  dear,  dear  mother, 
come  to  me."  As  Aunt  Lizzie  passed  down  the 
ward  to  meet  him,  one  of  his  comrades,  with  his  arm 
in  a  sling,  whispered  to  her,  "Call  him  Tommy, 
call  him  Tommy,  that's  his  name."  Persuaded  in 
his  delirious  fancy  that  it  was  really  his  mother, 
the  sick  youth  clasped  his  arms  round  Aunt  Liz- 
zie's neck  and  cried  out, 

"  Boys,  boys,  didn't  I  tell  you  that  I  would  see 
my  mother  before  I  died." 


106       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

Aunt  Lizzie  sought  to  quiet  him.  "  Be  com- 
posed, my  son,"  she  said,  "  I  have  many  comforts 
here — I  will  take  care  of  you." 

As  she  helped  lay  him  on  his  cot,  his  first  word 
was,  "  Mother,  now  won't  you  kneel  down  and  pray 
softly  as  you  did  when  I  went  away  3"  Dropping 
on  her  knees  beside  his  cot,  as  his  own  widowed 
mother  might  have  done,  this  childless  mother  laid 
him  tenderly  on  the  bosom  of  his  God.  During 
the  night  he  grew  weaker  and  weaker,  and  as  Aunt 
Lizzie  came  to  sit  by  him  he  said,  "  Sing  me  Sister 
Hattie's  tune."  "Which  one,  my  son?"  asked 
Aunt  Lizzie.  It  proved  to  be  one  with  which  she 
was  familiar,  and  together  they  sang, 

11  Come  unto  me,  when  shadows  darkly  gather, 
When  thy  tired  heart  is  weary  and  distressed 
Seeking  the  comfort  of  thy  heavenly  Father, 
Copie  unto  me  and  I  will  give  thee  rest."' 

He  carried  his  part  in  a  sweet,  clear,  rich  tone, 
that  sounded  like  a  voice  from  another  world,  as  it 
rang  through  the  room  in  the  silent  midnight. 
The  whole  ward  lifted  up  their  heads  and  listened. 
All  night  long  Aunt  Lizzie  sat  by  him.  After  a 
time  he  became  blind,  and  at  intervals  cried  out, 
"Mother  are  you  here,  don't  let  me  die  alone," 
when  she  would  lay  her  hand  on  him  and  assure 
him  that  she  was  still  beside  him.  As  the  morn- 
ing sunlight  came  streaming  into  the  windows,  he 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  107 

peacefully  fell  asleep  in  death,  without  a  sigh,  still 
under  the  delusion  that  his  mother  was  near  him. 

The  boat  that  arrived  at  Memphis  at  nine  o'clock 
that  same  morning  brought  his  own  mother  from 
Ohio.  She  hastened  to  the  surgeon's  office  to  read 
the  list  of  the  dead,  but  the  Major's  heart  was  too 
full  of  tenderness  for  him  to  allow  her  to  do  so.  He 
could  not  even  announce  to  her  the  painful  fact  that 
her  son  lay  robed  for  the  grave  by  other  hands  than 
her  own.  He  accordingly  dispatched  an  orderly 
for  Aunt  Lizzie  to  come.  She  led  the  poor  mother, 
whose  fears  were  all  confirmed  by  the  manner  of 
her  reception,  into  the  hall  and  gently  told  her  that 
her  son  was  safe  in  the  arms  of  Jesus.  She  could 
not  rest  a  moment  until  she.  went  across  the  road  to 
the  morgue.  There  la}r  thirty  of  the  dead  in  rows 
along  the  sides  of  the  room.  Aunt  Lizzie  quietly 
lifted  the  sheet  from  the  marble  face,  and  was  filled 
with  astonishment  and  admiration  at  the  calmness 
and  resignation  of  the  mother.  As  she  stood  and 
looked  at  her  darling  she  said,  u  God  is  my  support 
in  this  trial.  For  two  long  years,  Madam,  in  my 
dreams  I  have  seen  my  dear  boy  wounded,  disfig- 
ured, dying  on  the  battle-field,  but  now  he  looks  so 
like  himself  and  so  peaceful  that  death  is  robbed  of 
half  its  sting."  She  kissed  the  still  face,  and  then 
turning  to  Aunt  Lizzie  drew  her  closely  to  her 
heart  and  said,  "  How  I  love  you,  how  I  love  you." 


10S       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

That  same  evening  she  left  Memphis  taking  with 
her  the  dead  body  of  her  son,  and  a  gratitude  and 
friendship  for  Aunt  Lizzie  that  could  only  end  with 
her  life. 

In  one  of  the  wards  lay  a  boy  who  was  very 
homesick.  It  often  happened  that  those  who  were 
only  slightly  wounded  were  devoured  by  this  long- 
ing to  see  their  friends  and  their  distant  homes. 
Cases  have  been  known  where  men  have  died  from 
no  other  cause.  As  day  after  day  passed  by,  and 
the  young  soldier  grew  no  better,  the  doctor  began 
to  feel  uneasy  about  him.  It  seemed  wholly  un- 
necessary that  he  should  die  from  the  sheer  effects 
of  imagination.  Meeting  Aunt  Lizzie  in  the  hall, 
just  after  a  discouraging  visit  to  his  patient,  the 
physician  said  to  her,  "  I  will  give  you  a  dollar  if 
you  can  make  that  young  fellow  smile.  I  believe 
it  would  save  his  life."  She  playfully  answered, 
"01  can  do  it  for  less  than  that."  And  so  she  did 
in  a  manner  quite  unexpected  even  to  herself.  The 
next  morning,  she  needed  water  in  the  diet  room, 
and  stepped  into  the  next  ward  to  call  some  one  to 
get  it.  The  homesick  boy  lay  close  to  the  door, 
looking  as  sad  and  forlorn  as  might  well  be.  She 
called  out  hurriedly  to  him,  "  My  boy,  speak  to  that 
fellow  with  that  gray  shirt,  to  call  to  that  boy  with 
the  red  shirt,  to  cry  out  to  that  fellow  with  the  white 
shirt  there,  to  tell  that  boy  with  that  cap,  to  speak 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  100 

to  that  man  with  the  hat,  and  tell  him  I  want  a  pail 
of  water  in  two  minutes."  The  absurdity  of  the 
message  was  too  much  for  the  gravity  of  any  one, 
and  in  spite  of  his  determination  never  to  be  happy 
again,  the  sick  boy  broke  out  into  a  fit  of  laughter 
that  could  hardly  be  restrained  all  day.  Whenever 
he  thought  of  that  pail  of  water,  he  laughed  im- 
moderately. The  next  morning  the  doctor  found 
him  still  laughing,  and  in  blank  astonishment  asked 
"What  on  earth  does  this  mean?"  The  patient 
went  on  to  describe  the  scene  to  him,  telling  him 
what  a  funny  woman  Aunt  Lizzie  was,  and  how  she 
would  get  anything  done  that  she  wanted,  under  all 
circumstances.  The  doctor  shared  in  his  opinion, 
went  at  once  to  find  Aunt  Lizzie,  and  insisted  upon 
paying  the  dollar.  "  You  have  fully  earned  it  Aunt 
Lizzie,"  he  said,  "  for  my  patient  is  rapidly  recov- 
ino>  "  The  dollar  no  doubt  went  the  wav  of  most 
of  Aunt  Lizzie's  dollars,  and  was  spent  in  procur- 
ing some  little  luxury,  not  in  the  hospital  stores, 
which  some  poor  sick  man  craved. 

Another  of  her  tact  cures  was  that  of  the  head- 
surgeon  of  the  hospital.  Years  afterwards  at  an 
army  re-union  in  Wisconsin,  he  told  the  story  in 
this  wise:  He  was  very  ill  and  one  morning  sent 
for  Aunt  Lizzie  to  come  and  visit  him.  When  she 
arrived  he  complained  to  her  that  he  could  procure 
nothing  fit  to  eat,   adding,    "If  I  only   had   my 


110      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

mother  here,  she  would  fix  up  something  that  I 
could  relish."  Aunt  Lizzie  pretended  to  take  this 
speech  quite  to  heart.  "Don't  you  suppose,"  said 
she,  "  that  I  can  cook  as  well  as  your  mother?  I 
will  bring  you  up  a  dish  as  nice  as  anything  she  can 
fix;  but  I  don't  want  to  cook  for  nothing,  I  must 
have  your  promise  that  you  will  eat  whatever  I 
fetch  you."  After  some  hesitation,  as  he  really  had 
no  appetite,  he  promised  to  try  and  and  dispose  of 
whatever  she  might  cook. 

Going  into  the  diet  room,  she  happened  to  see  a 
salt  cod-fish  hanging  up  in  the  corner,  and  remem- 
bered having  heard  old  physicians  say  that  it  was 
the  best  thing  to  restore  the  appetite  of  patients, 
who  had  lost  the  tone  of  their  stomachs.  She  cut 
off  the  tail,  and  roasted  it  in  front  of  the  fire,  then 
served  it  up  with  butter,  crackers  and  a  couple  of 
jokes.  Either  the  salt,  or  the  cheerful  face  that  ac- 
companied it,  made  it  palatable,  and  to  use  the  sur- 
geon's own  words:  Aunt  Lizzie  saved  his  life  with 
a  codfish  tail. 

The  State  Committees  of  the  Sanitary  Commis- 
sion sent  special  agents  to  the  hospitals  South,  in 
charge  of  stores.  The  Ohio  agent  came  one  morn- 
ing to  Adams  Block.  While  engaged  in  his  tour 
of  inspection  through  the  hospital,  he  came  into  a 
room  where  the  windows  were  all  thrown  open  for 
air.     A  dying  man  lay  close  by  one  of  them,  gasp- 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  Ill 

ing  for  breath.  Aunt  Lizzie  sat  by  him,  fanning 
him  gently  and  singing  "  Jesus,  Lover  of  my  soul." 
The  ward-master  saw  a  young  officer  riding  up  the 
street,  and  suggested  to  the  agent  that  he  should 
stand  one  side  and  witness  the  scene  that  would 
shortly  occur.  The  young  soldier  rode  on  a  most 
beautiful  black  horse,  the  gift  of  his  uncle,  and  was 
dressed  in  the  uniform  of  a  lieutenant.  lie  was 
the  favorite  nephew  of  a  colonel,  who,  when  he  met 
Aunt  Lizzie,  often  said:  "Whatever  happens  to 
me,  take  care  of  my  boy."  And  indeed  there  was 
good  reason  for  this  fondness.  The  young  soldier 
had  been  carefully  educated,  and  was  noble  both  in 
his  appearance  and  his  daily  life.  He  had  taken  a 
great  fancy  to  Aunt  Lizzie,  and  whenever  he  was 
ordered  off,  came  to  bid  her  good-bye.  Nine  times 
already  had  he  come  to  ask  her  blessing,  and  receive 
a  word  of  Christian  encouragement,  or  a  little  book 
to  read  on  the  march.  This  very  afternoon  he  had 
begged  leave  of  absence,  saying  to  his  uncle:  "Let 
me  go,  just  an  instant,  to  get  Aunt  Lizzie's  God 
bless  you." 

As  he  rode  up,  she  looked  out  of  the  window  and 
saw  him  coming.  She  knew  his  errand  before  he 
spoke,  so  leaning  out  she  cried,  "  God  bless  you, 
my  boy,  once  again,  fight  like  a  man." 

"  Aunt  Lizzie,"  said  he,  "  do  you  see  that  battal- 
ion over  there  by  the  ravine?     Those  are  our  men, 


112      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

we  are  ordered  off  at  once.  I  could  not  go  without 
saying  good-bye  to  you." 

"  That  is  right  my  son,"  answered  she,  "  God  be 
with  you,  don't  be  a  coward.  God  bless  you  once 
again."  As  he  rode  off  she  called  after  him,  "Don't 
be  shot  in  the  back." 

"  Never,  Aunt  Lizzie,  never,"  he1  cried,  turning 
and  touching  to  her  his  cavalry  hat  with  its  long, 
sweeping,  black  plume.  In  a  minute  he  was  out  of 
sight,  and  Aunt  Lizzie,  with  a  prophetic  thought  of 
evil,  leaned  her  head  on  the  sill,  and  wept  as  if  part- 
ying from  her  own  son. 

The  next  evening,  at  sundown,  the  long  train  of 
ambulances  brought  in  the  wounded  from  the  fight. 
The  dead  were  carried  into  the  basement  and  laid 
on  shelves,  in  ice,  till  they  could  be  buried.  As 
Aunt  Lizzie  was  superintending  the  care  of  the 
wounded,  an  assistant  came  up  to  her  and  said, 
"Aunt  Lizzie,  your  boy  is  down  there,"  pointing  to 
the  basement.  "  "Which  one?"  she  asked.  It  was 
the  young  lieutenant  whom  she  had  blessed  from  the 
window  the  day  before.  He  was  coming  into  town 
with  fifty  prisoners  in  charge,  when  he  was  shot  by 
an  ambuscade.  The  assassins  who  slew  him  had 
plundered  his  body  of  everything  of  any  value, 
killed  his  horse,  and  with  a  pistol  had  blown  off  his 
face  after  he  was  dead.  Aunt  Lizzie,  remembering 
his  uncle's  charge,  went  down  as  soon  as  possible  to 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  113 

attend  to  his  poor  body.  She  found  the  form  that 
but  yesterday  she  had  seen  so  instinct  with  life  and 
hope,  pinned  up  in  a  blanket,  and  riddled  by  eleven 
bullets.  She  carefully  washed  off  the  blood  and 
combed  out  the  matted  hair,  and  as  she  worked  her 
indignation  grew.  In  this  one  dead  soldier  she 
saw,  as  it  were,  all  the  victims  of  a  mad  ambition 
robbed,  disfigured,  dead. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Aunt  Lizzie  received 
from  the  Soldiers'  Aid  Societies  of  Brimfield  and 
Peoria  large  quantities  of  jam  and  preserved  fruits, 
and,  greatest  luxury  of  all,  a  barrel  of  fresh  butter. 
The  very  next  day  the  remnants  of  an  Ohio  regi- 
ment came  up  the  river,  very  much  worn,  and  were 
sent  ashore  for  a  few  hours.  They  were  waiting  fur- 
ther orders  in  the  convalescent  ward  of  the  hospital 
at  Adams  Block,  when  Aunt  Lizzie  heard  of  their 
arrival.  Knowing  that  they  must  be  very  hungry, 
she  ordered  a  quantity  of  fresh  bread  from  the  hos- 
pital bakery.  Her  barrel  of  butter  was  wheeled 
into  the  room,  and  standing  by  the  door,  she  handed 
to  each  of  those  six  hundred  men  a  good  thick  slice 
of  bread  and  butter  covered  with  jam,  as  they  filed 
out  to  take  the  boat  again.  Many  were  the  jokes 
and  the  compliments  paid  to  her  and  the  ladies  at 
home.  "  Xever  tasted  anything  so  good  in  my 
life,"  said  one.  "  It's  just  like  what'  my  mother 
used  to  give  me  when  I  was  a  good  boy,"  laughed 
10 


114      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

another.  "Hurrah  for  Aunt  Lizzie!"  cried  they 
all  as  the j  passed  out  of  the  door.  They  went 
cheerfully  on  their  way,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the 
empty  jam-pots  and  the  half-empty  barrel  were  all 
that  showed  that  they  had  been  in  Memphis  at  all. 

The  month  of  August  was  full  of  great  trials  and 
sorrow  to  Aunt  Lizzie.  On  the  third  day  of  that 
month  her  brother  Bertrand  died  at  Cavendish. 
lie  had  returned  to  the  old  home  with  his  mother, 
but  the  effort  had  been  too  great  for  his  failing 
strength,  and  in  ten  days  he  quietly  passed  away. 

In  this  month,  also,  Colonel  David  Irons  died  at 
^Nashville,  Tennessee. 

To  these  depressing  events  were  added  other 
things  that  made  this  month  of  August  one  of  the 
severest  during  Aunt  Lizzie's  army  service.  The 
heat  was  intense;  the  hospital  had  been  refilled  with 
sick  from  Vicksburg,  and  many  of  the  nurses  gave 
out  utterly  under  the  renewed  burden,  so  Mother 
and  Aunt  Lizzie  had,  at  times,  to  do  double  dut}T. 

How  determined  and  faithful  they  were  may  be 
shown  by  a  little  incident  mentioned  in  a  letter: 
Aunt  Lizzie  scalded  her  right  hand  so  badly  by 
spilling  boiling  chocolate  over  it  that  the  skin  was 
destroyed,  and  she  could  not  use  it  for  three  weeks. 
Still,  during  that  time,  she  was  never  absent  from 
her  post,  and  assisted  Mother  Sturgis  to  fill  the  places 
of  four  of  the  other  nurses  who  were  absent. 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  115 

In  November,  Mrs.  Sturgis  was  called  home  to 
Peoria  by  the  severe  illness  of  her  daughter  Annie, 
who  soon  after  died.  Thus  was  Aunt  Lizzie  deprived 
for  months  of  her  most  faithful  co-worker,  and  her 
most  intimate  friend. 

The  loyal  ladies  of  Memphis  formed  themselves 
into  a  "  Union  League,"  on  the  eighteenth  of  No- 
vember,  with  the  the  wife  of  Major  Robb  at  their 
head.  In  addition  to  all  their  other  labors  for  the 
soldiers,  these  ladies  began  to  work  for  a  Sanitary  fair. 
Some  time  before  they  had  started  an  impromptu 
flower-mission.  The  dreary  wards  of  the  hospitals 
were  supplied  with  fresh  flowers,  bushels  of  which 
were  sent  every  morning.  Every  available  corner 
of  table  or  shelf  was  adorned  by  the  most  lovely 
bouquets.  Tin  cans,  that  had  held  preserved  fruits, 
or  condensed  milk,  took  the  place  of  vases,  and 
were  easily  made  to  pass  for  such,  being  hidden  by 
a  drapery  of  luxuriant  vines.  Many  a  loyal  woman, 
who  had  nothing  else  to  give,  brought  the  choicest 
of  her  flowers,  the  sweetest  roses,  the  purest  mag- 
nolias, the  most  fragrant  myrtle,  that  by  their  silent 
beauty  they  might  help  men  to  suffer  and  to  die. 

In  February  1864,  fifteen  thousand  cavalry  left 
Memphis  on  a  raid  through  Mississippi,  the  Sixth 
Illinois,  Aunt  Lizzie's  own  regiment,  taking  the 
lead.  The  soldiers  flocked  to  the  hospital  by  hun- 
dreds to  bid  her  good-bye,  leaving  their  photographs 


116       THE  STOHY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

with  her  for  fear  they  might  never  return,  and 
begging  her  to  stay  in  Memphis  at  least  four 
months  longer,  that  they  might  have  the  satisfac- 
tion of  feeling  that  if  wounded  they  could  be  sent 
back  to  her  for  care.  Aunt  Lizzie,  standing  like  a 
mother  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd,  assured  them 
that  if  God  sustained  her,  she  would  surely  remain 
until  their  return.  The  staff  officers  of  the  regi- 
ment, anxious  to  give  her  a  substantial  token  of 
affectionate  regard,  presented  her,  before  they  left, 
with  a  gold  watch  and  chain,  and  an  album  contain- 
ing all  their  photographs.  The  general  gave  her, 
at  the  same  time,  a  handsome  black  dress,  which  was 
certainly  the  most  welcome  gift  that  she  could  re- 
ceive. In  spite  of  the  kindness  of  the  ladies  at  home, 
Aunt  Lizzie  often  found  it  very  difficult  to  procure 
all  necessary  articles  of  clothing,  and  to  pay  for 
washing  out  of  a  salary  of  twelve  dollars  a  month, 
and  even  that  very  irregularly  paid. 

Yery  many  of  these  familiar  faces  she  never  saw 
a^ain.  Before  the  month  closed,  a  lon^  train  of 
ambulances  brought  a  hundred  and  fifty  wounded 
to  Adams  Block,  some  of  them  the  very  boys  who 
had  bidden  her  good-bye  but  a  few  days  before. 
They  brought  the  sad  news  that  five  of  their  officers 
had  been  killed  in  a  desperate  fight  on  the  Talla- 
lmtchee,  all  dying  within  twenty -five  minutes  of 
each  other.     How  great  a  blessing  Aunt  Lizzie  was 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  117 

to  those  who  were  happy  enough  to  reach  Memphis 
alive,  is  best  expressed  by  the  words  of  one  of  them, 
a  boy  of  nineteen,  who  died  the  next  dav,  clin^in^ 
to  her  hand  as  he  went  down  into  the  dark  valley: 
"  Dear  Aunt  Lizzie,"  he  said  again  and  again, 
"  what  a  comfort  to  have  you  sit  beside  me,  to  feel 
that  I  shall  not  die  alone."  After  lying  quite  still 
for  some  minutes,  he  said,  looking  up  very  earnestly 
into  her  face,  "Aunt  Lizzie,  may  you  not  want 
some  kind  friend  to  comfort  you  when  you  die." 
She  answered,  "  My  son,  God  will  provide."  His 
eyes  filling  with  tears,  he  said,  "  How  much  that 
sounds  like  my  own  dear  mother's  voice,  tell  my 
mother  all,"  and  died. 

In  the  early  spring,  troops  having  been  sent  from 
Yicksburg  to  join  the  Red  River  Expedition,  'West 
Tennessee  and  Kentucky  were  left  exposed  to  the 
attacks  of  the  rebels.  General  Forrest,  of  the  Con- 
federate army,  started  with  five  thousand  men  to 
take  Paducah,  but  was  repulsed.  Lie  next  attacked 
Fort  Pill  ow,  and  took  it  by  surprise.  Then  followed 
the  cruel  slaughter  of  helpless  prisoners  that  has 
made  the  name  of  Forrest  infamous.  Some  of  the 
few  who  survived  were  brought  to  Memphis,  and 
enlisted  Aunt  Lizzie's  greatest  sympathy  by  their 
deplorable  condition,  riddled  with  pistol-shots,  and 
slashed  by  sabres.  Her  special  ward  was  filled  with 
wounded,  and  the  most  desperate  cases  were  turned 


118       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 


over  to  her  by  the  surgeons,  who  had  learned  to 
depend  upon  her  skill  and  faithfulness. 

The  thoughts  that  passed  through  her  mind  con- 
tinually during  these  dark  days  are  best  expressed 
by  herself  in  a  letter  to  her  friend,  Mrs.  Irons.  She 
says: 

"  There  is  so  much  to  be  clone,  so  much  need  of  more  being 
done,  so  many  sad  hearts  all  about  me  to  be  cheered,  so  many 
broken  spirits  to  be  lifted  tenderly  and  bound  up  lovingly,  such 
great  dark  errors,  such  hungry,  wolfish  sorrows  all  about  me, 
to  be  struggled  with  and  conquered  for  myself,  as  well  as  my 
brother  soldiers,  that  I  feel  I  cannot  make  a  play-day  of  one 
single  day  in  which  God  gives  me  the  glorious  privilege  of 
living.  *  *  *  *  I  deem  my  mission  one  of  the  holiest  ever 
entrusted  to  mortals.  I  am  content  to  work  in  a  humble  sphere, 
not  forgetting  that  though  I  may  not  be  the  swift  flowing  river, 
I  may  be  a  drop  or  portion  of  it,  which  is  pouring  its  blessings 
out  upon  suffering  humanity.  *  *  *  *  What  rich,  tender, 
happy,  yet  sad  experiences  I  have  had  during  my  almost  three 
years  of  service.  I  see  grim-yisaged  war  sit  with  frowning 
brow,  holding  his  dripping  sword,  which  has  caused  rivers  of 
blood  to  flow'on  the  battle-field,  and  deeper  rivers  of  anguish 
from  broken  hearts  and  desolate  firesides;  what  Spartan-like 
giving  up  of  household  idols,  what  noble  acts  of  devotion  and 
sacrifice  of  self!  My  sister,  we  are  making  up  the  leaves  of  a 
glorious  history,  and  I  thank  God,  woman  is  writing  her  golden 
sentences  upon  its  pages." 

In  August  the  Union  soldiers  in  Memphis  re- 
ceived several  months'  pay,  a  very  large  amount  of 
money.  General  Forrest,  hearing  of  this,  deter- 
mined to  confiscate  at  least  a  part  of  it  for  his  own 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  119 

needy  army.  The  Irving  Block  Prison  was  full  of 
rebel  prisoners,  who  doubtless  knew  of  his  coming 
and  were  ready  to  join  his  band  the  moment  lie 
could  reach  them.  He  swept  down  upon  Memphis, 
unexpectedly  to  its  defenders,  and  succeeded  in 
penetrating  into  the  city.  He  pillaged  the  Gay- 
osa  Hospital,  and  started  to  liberate  the  prisoners. 
Aunt  Lizzie,  hearing  the  noise,  leaned  out  of  a  third 
story  window  in  Adams  Block,  and  saw  the  Union 
soldiers,  who  were  drawn  up  on  the  roof  of  the 
prison,  shoot  the  rebels  in  the  street,  who  were  striv- 
ing to  force  their  way  into  the  well-guarded  doors 
of  the  building.  A  crowd  of  people,  "  cowards," 
Aunt  Lizzie  styles  them,  pressed  down  the  street 
toward  the  river.  Looking  up,  one  after  another 
recognized  her,  and  called  to  her  to  escape,  or  the 
rebels  would  shoot  her  head  off  if  she  stood  looking 
out  at  the  fight.  "  Let  them  shoot,"  she  cried,  in 
a  state  of  great  excitement,  "  I  will  look." 

A  call  for  Aunt  Lizzie,  however,  made  her  turn 
her  attention  to  the  hospital.  There  were  eleven 
hundred  sick  and  .wounded  in  Adams  Block,  and 
it  was  thought  best  to  send  the  women,  and  the 
patients  able  to  be  moved,  across  the  river  for  safety. 
The  idea  occurred  at  once  to  one  of  the  soldiers,  that 
they  had  better  put  their  watches  and  money,  into 
the  hands  of  the  ladies.  Aunt  Lizzie  and  Mother 
Sturgia  stood  at  either  end  of  the  halls  and  received 


120      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

the  valuables  that  were  passed  to  them.  The  money 
was  rolled  np  in  packages,  with  full  directions  on 
each, — name,  regiment,  state  and  post  office;  so  that 
if  the  owners  were  killed  or  captured,  their  property 
could  be  sent  to  their  friends. 

Aunt  Lizzie  received  as  her  share  fifty- seven 
watches,  which  she  fastened  to  a  belt  and  strapped 
around  her  waist.  The  money,  amounting  to 
several  thousand  dollars,  she  put  into  a  large  inside 
pocket.  It  was  understood  that  she  and  the  other 
nurses  were  to  be  sent  immediately  across  the  river, 
to  a  place  of  safety.  But  just  as  she  was  descending 
the  stairs,  an  orderly  rushed  up  with  news  that  the 
colonel  of  her  own  regiment  lay,  badly  wounded  in 
a  skirmish  with  the  raiders,  about  a  mile  from  the 
city. 

In  a  moment  all  the  fifty-seven  ticking  watches, 
the  money  and  her  own  safety,  were  forgotten,  and 
she  resolved  to  go  and  care  for  him.  At  the  door 
of  the  hospital,  she  found  an  Irishman  standing  by 
a  lumbering  old  carryall.  He  had  evidently  been 
sent  to  take  her  and  Mrs.  Sturgis  to  the  boat,  but 
she  determined  to  use  him  for  her  own  purposes. 

"  Pat,  "she  said,  in  as  broad  a  brogue  as  she  could 
command,  "  there's  a  lad  down  there  badly  wounded, 
and  I'm  after  going  to  see  him,  how  much  will  you 
take  me  for?" 

Pat  quite  delighted  to  find,  as  he  thought,  one  of 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  121 

liis  own  countrywomen  in  the  hospital,  pulled  off 
his  hat,  gallantly  replied  that  "  sorra  a  cent  would 
he  be  after  taking,"  and  helped  her  into  the  carry- 
all in  fine  style. 

Hardly  had  they  started,  when  she  realized  her 
thoughtlessness  in  thus  entrusting  herself  and  all  her 
boys'  property  to  the  care  of  an  entire  stranger.  In 
great  fear  lest  he  should  hear  the  ticking  of  the 
watches,  she  began  to  talk  to  him.  He,  nothing 
loath,  kept  up  the  conversation.  ''And  how  long 
may  you  have  been  in  this  country  ?"  he  asked. 

"  About  three  years,  shy'  she  answered. 

"  And  do  you  live  near  here?''  was  the  next  ques- 
tion. 

••Xo,  indeed,''  she  replied,  "I  came  down  from 
the  Xorth,  to  take  care  of  the  boys  in  the  army." 

Then  she  asked  him  if  he  had  a  family,  for  he 
seemed  so  delighted  with  her  that  she  feared  he 
might  undertake  to  make  love  to  her. 

••  Arrah,  yes,"  he  said,  he  had  a  wife  and  three 
children,  "  and  would  she  come  and  see  them?" 

"  Some  other  day,"  she  answered,  "  now  I  must 
go  and  attend  to  the  poor  wounded  lad." 

Fortunately  for  Aunt  Lizzie,  the  rebels  were  so 
fully  occupied  in  ^Memphis  that  she  encountered  no 
stragglers  of  their  army.  She  found  the  Colonel 
severely  wounded  and  rapidly  sinking  from  loss  of 
blood.  When  she  began  staunching  the  wound 
11 


122      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

with  lint,  he  looked  np  in  great  joy  and  surprise, 
"0,  Aunt  Lizzie,"  said  lie,  "how  did  you  get  to 
me?" 

"Never  mind  now,"  answered  she,  "only  drink 
this  brandy,  so  that  we  can  carry  you  to  headquar- 
ters." She  found  a  couple  of  men,  who  placed  him 
on  a  litter,  and  she  walked  back  to  town  by  his  side, 
holding  his  hand  to  help  him  bear  the  great  pain 
of  being  moved.  When  in  the  dusk  of  evening  they 
passed  slowly  through  the  streets  of  Memphis,  they 
found  the  place  comparatively  quiet.  Forrest  had 
been  driven  out,  and  order  restored.  In  a  short 
time  all  the  watches  were  ticking  under  the  pillows 
of  their  owners,  who  had  never  left  the  hospital, 
and  the  money  was  safely  deposited  where  it  be- 
longed. 

The  next  evening,  Aunt  Lizzie  accompanied  the 
Colonel  to  the  boat,  gave  into  the  hands  of  his  at- 
tendant a  bottle  of  wine,  and  one  of  beef  tea  that 
she  had  prepared  for  him,  and  bade  him  farewell. 
She  never  saw  him  a^ain.  He  had  received  his 
death-wound,  and  but  for  her  rash  courage  and 
humanity  probably  would  have  expired  on  the  field 
before  help  could  reach  him.  As  it  was,  he  lingered 
a  short  time  in  his  home  at  Jacksonville,  Illinois, 
and  died  surrounded  by  his  family. 

A  few  days  after  this,  Aunt  Lizzie's  Irish  friend 
came  to  the  hospital  in  search  of  her.     He  wished 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  123 

to  take  her  to  make  a  visit  at  his  house.  He  in- 
quired of  the  head  surgeon  for  the  Irish  woman 
who  lived  there. 

"  My  good  fellow,''  replied  the  surgeon,  "  there 
is  no  such  person  here." 

"  Ah,  hut  there  is;  you  can't  cheat  me;  didn't  I 
drive  her  myself  from  the  door  of  this  very  house? " 

Mother  Sturgis  overheard  the  altercation,  and 
came  running  into  the  ward  where  Aunt  Lizzie  was 
busy.  "Come  quickly,"  she  cried,  "here  is  your 
Pat  looking  after  you,  and  he  will  be  very  angry  if 
he  finds  that  you  are  not  Bridget,  after  all."  They 
hid  her  away  in  a  linen  closet,  since  the  man  insist- 
ed upon  hunting  through  the  wards  for  the  woman 
who  had  talked  so  pleasantly  to  him.  Finally,  the 
clerk  and  the  surgeon  fairly  drove  him  off,  and  he 
probably  has  never  found  out  who  Bridget  was,  to 
this  day. 

In  September  Aunt  Lizzie  left  Memphis  on  her 
long  promised  visit  to  Peoria  and  Vermont.  The 
officers  of  her  regiment  procured  her  a  veteran's 
furlough  of  sixty  days,  and  a  railroad  pass  to  Peo- 
ria. Wearied  with  her  long  service,  she  at  first 
thought  that  after  her  visit  was  ended  she  would 
apply  for  permission  to  serve  in  a  more  Xorthern 
hospital,  where  her  duties  would  be  less  arduous. 
She  was,  however,  entreated  by  the  officers  of  the 
Sanitary  Commission  in  Memphis,  and  by  the  hos- 


124      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

pital  surgeons,  to  return.     Colonel  Kobb,  the  Illi- 
nois Sanitary  Agent,  wrote: 

"Dear  Aunt  Lizzie  .-—Rearing  to-day  that  you  were  on  the 
point  of  returning  to  your  home  in  Peoria,  I  could  not  refrain 
from  expressing  the  deep  regret  we  all  feel  at  your  leaving  us, 
after  the  long,  pleasant  intercourse  we  have  enjoyed  here.  Yet 
the  los?  your  friends  will  meet  with  will  be  but  slight  compared 
with  that  of  the  suffering  men  you  leave  behind  you  at  Adams 
Block  Hospital.  Sadly  indeed  will  they  miss  the  cool  hand  on 
their  burning  brows,  the  kind  and  sympathizing  word,  when 
struggling  with  death  or  slowly  returning  to  health.  Still,  we 
should  not  complain,  for  after  the  long  and  efficient  services 
you  have  devoted  to  these  brave  men  and  your  country,  at  the 
sacrifice  of  your  comfort  and  home,  I  can  but  say,  God  bless 
you,  and  God  speed  you. 

"  Very  truly  and  sincerely  your  friend, 

"T.  P.  Robb,  Col.  and  Agent." 

The  Special  Eelief  Agent  of  the  U.  S.  Sanitary 
Commission,  the  Military  Agents  of  Indiana  and 
Iowa,  the  Superintendent  of  the  United  States  Gen- 
eral Hospital  at  Memphis,  the  chaplain  and  surgeon 
of  her  own  hospital,  all  with  one  impulse  wrote 
declaring  that  her  departure  will  be  a  serious  loss 
to  Adams  Block  Hospital,  where,  for  a  year  and 
eight  months,  she  had  been  like  a  Christian  mother 
to  multitudes  of  our  brave  soldiers. 

The  Ohio  Military  Agent,  determined  if  possible 

to  keep  her  in  Memphis,  wrote  as  follows  to  the 

President  of  the  Western  Sanitary  Commission: 

Jas.  E.  Yeatman,  Esq., 

Sir:     From  an  acquaintance  of  something  over  a  year  with 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  125 

Mrs.  Aiken,  acting-  Matron  of  the  Adams  Hospital  in  Memphis, 
I  am  decidedly  of  the  opinion  that  the  interests  of  the  hospital 
service  require  that  she  be  retained  in  her  present  position  at 
this  point. 

True,  her  frankness  of  manner  and  "winning  ways"  would 
soon  gain  her  friends  wherever  she  might  go.  It  however  takes 
time  to  acquire  the  confidence  she  has  here  of  all  who  have  to 
do  with  the  sick  in  hospitals. 

She  is  conspicuous  among  the  few  who  have  any  aptness  for 
such  service,  adapting  herself  alike  to  all. 

I  trust  and  hope  there  will  be  no  move  looking  to  her  trans- 
fer to  another  place. 

Respectfully  yours, 

F.  W.  Bingham. 

Under  such  a  pressure  of  appreciation  and  regard, 
what  could  Aunt  Lizzie  do  but  promise  to  return 
and  remain  with  her  friends  till  the  close  of  the  war? 
Her  stay  at  Peoria  was  by  no  means  one  of  un- 
broken rest  and  recreation.  Hers  was  not  a  nature 
that  could  easily  drop  all  thought  of  the  sufferers 
she  had  left  behind.  Sorely  worn  as  she  was,  she 
commenced  at  once  to  visit  the  towns  about  Peoria, 
gather  together  the  women,  and  give  a  recital  of 
hospital  incidents.  She  asked  for  no  money,  but 
at  the  close  of  her  affecting  addresses  an  impromptu 
collection  for  the  hospital  was  called  for  by  the 
audience.  In  this  way  she  raised  seven  hundred 
dollars  before  she  left  the  West. 

The  ladies  of  the  Peoria  Loyal  League  sent  her 
on  to  Vermont  to  visit  her  mother.  Like  most  of 
those  who  give  their  all  for  the  privilege  of  minis- 


126       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

tering  to  the  suffering  of  our  race,  she  was  then, 
as  ever,  cared  for.  Even  the  pleasures  of  life  are 
not  wanting  as  part  of  the  reward  of  faithful,  self- 
sacrificing  service.  Aunt  Lizzie  has  all  her  life 
found  that  practically  the  sentiment  is  true, 

"  There  was  a  man,  though  some  did  think  him  mad, 
The  more  he  gave  away,  the  more  he  had." 

And  so  Aunt  Lizzie,  who  had  often  spent  her  last 
cent  for  the  comfort  of  a  wounded  soldier,  still  had 
the  wish  of  her  heart,  and  was  permitted  to  go 
home  once  more  and  see  her  beloved  mother,  from 
whom  she  had  been  separated  for  eleven  long  years. 

Three  weeks  of  entire  rest  were  spent  in  Caven- 
dish. After  her  experience  in  the  heat,  noise  and 
confusion  of  two  summers  at  Memphis,  nothing 
could  have  been  more  grateful  than  the  quiet  cool- 
ness of  the  little  New  England  town.  Here,  too, 
she  was  far  from  the  questions  that  disturbed  other 
parts  of  the  country.  As  she  sj)oke  at  Cavendish, 
in  behalf  of  her  soldiers,  it  seemed  to  her  that  even 
the  leaves  of  the  trees,  as  they  whispered  in  the 
breeze,  spoke  messages  of  loyalty  and  cheer. 

She  made  a  number  of  "  sanitary  addresses"  in 
the  neighboring  towns  and  was  received  everywhere 
with  appreciative  enthusiasm. 

At  the  close  of  her  visit  to  Vermont,  the  loyal 
ladies  of  New  Hampshire  sent  for  her  to  give  them 
reports  of  the   hospital  work   in  the    Southwest. 


IX  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  127 

She  went  with  alacrity,  since  the  call  gave  her  not 
only  the  opportunity  of  making  collections  for  her 
patients,  but  also  of  seeing  her  husband.  He  was  at 
that  time  in  the  care  of  some  relatives  in  Xew  Hamp- 
shire, and  Aunt  Lizzie  hoped  that  she  might  find 
him  in  improved  health.  But  she  was  doomed  to 
the  bitterest  disappointment.  When  she  arrived  at 
the  house  where  he  stayed,  he  did  not  recognize  her, 
but  received  her  as  a  stranger.  Xo  explanations 
seemed  to  bring  her  to  his  clouded  remembrance. 
She  was  obliged  to  content  herself  with  watching 
him  through  the  window.  The  sight  of  his  utter 
forgetfulness  of  her,  filled  her  heart  with  such  grief 
that  she  never  again  has  submitted  herself  to  the 
same  trial.  For  many  }Tears  she  has  faithfully  per- 
formed her  duty  to  him,  so  far  as  lies  in  her  power. 
She  has  reversed  the  usual  order  of  things  and  pro- 
vided out  of  her  salary  for  his  maintai nance.  But 
this  she  could  not  do  if  she  assumed  the  personal 
care  of  a  helpless  invalid,  more  unreasonable  than 
a  child. 

The  latter  part  of  October,  Aunt  Lizzie  returned 
to  Memphis  by  way  of  Peoria,  refreshed  by  the  jour- 
ney and  strengthened  for  her  work.  She  had  raised 
in  all  about  one  thousand  dollars  for  hospital  stores. 
During  her  second  visit  in  Peoria,  she  consulted 
with  the  Ladies  of  the  Loyal  League,  and  made 
arrangements  for  a   grand   Thanksgiving   dinner, 


128       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

which  she  wished  to  give  her  patients;  especially 
those  in  the  convalescent  wards.  She  also  bought 
a  boat-load  of  potatoes,  butter  and  eggs,  to  take  back 
with  her. 

This  Thanksgiving  dinner  proved  a  great  success. 
Aunt  Lizzie  turned  cook  for  the  occasion,  set  to  work 
in  the  diet  room,  and  made  three  hundred  pies. 
She  had  all  the  materials,  large  stone  crocks  of 
mince-meet,  and  a  barrel  of  butter;  forty  puddings 
and  two  hundred  and  fifty  chickens,  besides  turkies 
in  abundance,  were  also  provided. 

In  December,  Aunt  Lizzie  writes;  "Mother 
Sturgis  and  myself  never  worked  harder  in  our  lives. 
We  have  been  able  to  draw  no  new  clothing  for  our 
patients  this  fall,  and  we  have  had  some  very  cold 
weather.  Every  leisure  moment  we  spend  in  darn- 
ing and  patching  old  socks  and  mending  old  flannel 
shirts." 

In  January,  1S65,  Aunt  Lizzie's  health  gave  way 
,  under  the  pressure  of  her  severe  labors,  and  she  was 
transferred  from  Adams  Block,  to  the  Washington, 
Hospital.  Her  talent  for  arrangement,  and  her 
well-known  executive  ability,  led  to  this  change. 
Mrs.  Sturgis  was  left  at  Adams  Block  till  April. 
In  her  new  position  Aunt  Lizzie  was  assigned 
lighter  duties,  especially  the  care  of  the  linen  room. 
When  she  arrived,  she  found  the  patients  still 
drinking  their  coffee   from  tin  cups,  and  eating 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  129 

their  meals  from  the  same  metal.  She  quickly 
revolutionized  the  domestic  arrangements  of  the 
hospital  and  introduced,  as  she  had  at  Adams 
Block,  white  china.  It  is  wonderful  how  great  a 
difference  so  slight  a  change  made  in  the  quiet  and 
comfort  of  the  wards.  The  appetite  of  the  patients 
revived  when  their  food  was  served  in  a  home-like 
manner. 

Her  life  at  the  "Washington  Hospital  comes  out 
in  a  letter  written  daring  the  spring: 

"  Dear  Mrs.  B1  an  chard: 

"Amid  the  greatest  confusion,  and  in  the  greatest  hurry,  I 
seat  myself  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  box,  which  came 
to  hand  last  week.  Nothing  could  have  been  more  timely,  for 
we  had  just  received  a  boat-load  of  sick  from  Eastport.  Poor 
fellows,  they  had  had  nothing  but  boiled  corn  during  several 
days  to  subsist  on.  Just  imagine  how  they  enjoyed  the  hot 
buttered  toast.  We  made  three  hundred  slices  the  first  meal. 
Nothing  could  have  proved  so  great  a  luxury  as  the  butter. 
The  socks  were  immediately  put  to  good  use,  and  the  shirts, 
Mother  Hathaway's  shirts,  I  took  into  the  ward,  and  told  the 
boys  I  was  going  to  move  that  we  vote  who  was  most  in  need 
of  the  shirts;  they  all  cried  out,  'Uncle  Billy.'  I  went  up  to 
him.  and  found  him  an  old  man  of  sixty  years.     *    *    *    * 

"  Three  hundred  shirts,  all  wanting  mending,  have  just  come 
in  from  the  laundry,  so  I  will  write  no  more  this  time." 

Here,  as  everywhere,  she  was  idolized  by  the  sol- 
diers. The  sister  of  one  who  had  gone  home  to 
die,  in  describing  his  last  days,  writes  these  touch- 
ing words: 


130       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

"Aunt  Lizzie,  I  don't  think  that  there  was  one  person  who 
came  in  to  see  him  as  long  as  he  was  able  to  talk,  but  he  spoke 
of  you  to  them,  always  declaring-  that  he  believed  you  to  be  the 
best  woman  living-.  Oh  how  often  have  I  heard  that  dear  voice 
that  is  now  hushed  in  death,  speaking-  in  such  high  terms  of 
your  noble  qualities.  One  night  he  was  delirious,  and  every 
time  he  wanted  anything  he  called  on  you  to  bring  it  to  him. 
It  seemed  that  he  thought  you  were  waiting  on  him  and  right 
by. his  side,  for  every  little  while  he  called  out,  '  Oh,  Aunt  Liz- 
zie, I  want  a  drink,  please  bring  me  a  drink.1  Dear  Aunt 
Lizzie,  we  shall  ever  gratefully  remember  you  for  your  kind- 
ness." 

This  is  but  a  sample  of  extracts  that  might  be 
made  from  scores  of  letters  written  by  relatives  of 
those  to  whom  Aimt  Lizzie  ministered  with  the 
greatest  devotion. 

Her  "soldier  boys"  fully  appreciated  her  care, 
and  strove  in  many  ways  to  express  their  regard. 
One  day  they  noticed  that  she  was  almost  bare- 
footed. Her  shoes  were  all  worn  out,  and  no 
money  was  in  her  purss  to  buy  more.  Several  of 
the  soldiers  contributed  from  their  scanty  store 
and  surprised  her  with  an  elegant  pair  of  new 
boots. 

The  following  characteristic  sentences  deserve 
copying.  They  were  accompanied  by  a  present 
of  various  articles  calculated  to  please  a  lady — a 
pearl  portfolio,  gold  pen,  scrap-book  and  ivory 
m  e  m  or  an  d  urn  tablets : 

"We,  the  undersigned,  agree  to  pay  the  amount  opposite 
our  names,  for  the  purpose  of  getting  Aunt  Lizzie  a  present, 


IX  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  131 

in  order  to  show  our  gratitude,  love,  respect,  and  friendship 
for  her,  for  her  sympathy,  kindness,  respect,  love,  anxiety, 
good  attention  and  motherly  care  toward  us,  and  other  sick, 
wounded  and  well  soldiers.  We  believe  her  to  be  a  good,  pat- 
riotic, and  Union  lady,  a  friend  of  the  soldiers  and  our  country. 
She  therefore  merits  a  tribute  of  respect  from  us,  to  show  our 
gratitude  toward  her  for  her  kindness." 

In  April,  word  was  received  in  Memphis,  that  the 

steamer  "  Sultana "  was  on  her  way  up  the  river, 
with  nineteen  hundred  discharged  Union  prisoners 
and  four  hundred  other  passengers  on  board.  When 
it  was  understood  that  she  would  stop  for  a  few 
hours  at  Memphis,  the  loyal  citizens  of  the  place 
prepared  a  sumptuous  supper  for  the  poor  soldiers, 
who  had  been  half  starved  during  the  last  fifteen 
months.  The  artillery  was  drawn  up  in  line  on 
the  river  bank  and  saluted  the  boat  as  she  swung 
to  shore;  the  crowd  cheered,  and  the  afternoon 
was  spent  in  congratulations  and  feasting.  The 
war  was  ended,  and  all  the  soldiers  in  Memphis 
were  expecting  soon  to  follow  in  the  wake  of  the 
"  Sultana,"  up  the  river,  home. 

Just  at  dusk  the  refreshed  party  started,  amid 
renewed  cheers  and  the  booming  of  cannon.  But 
about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  Aunt  Lizzie  was 
awakened  by  a  cry  that,  accustomed  as  she  was  to 
the  groans  of  the  wounded,  and  the  screams  of  de- 
lirium, struck  her  with  terror,  a  confused  noise,  a 
cry  of  anguish,  the   most  dreadful  she  had  ever 


132       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

heard.  At  once  she  perceived  that  some  shocking 
event  must  be  transpiring,  and  she  sprang  to  wake 
Mrs.  Sturgis.  Then,  throwing  on  a  shawl,  she  ran 
through  the  rooms  where  the  girls  slept,  and  bade 
them  rise  and  dress  as  quickly  as  possible,  for  some- 
thing fearful  was  coming.  Before  she  reached  her 
own  room  again,  the  great  gong  sounded  the  signal 
for  every  person  in  the  building  to  go  on  duty,  and 
news  ran  through  the  halls  that  the  "Sultana"  had 
exploded,  some  distance  up  the  river,  and  that  the 
stream  was  full  of  drowned  and  drowning  men.  In 
company  with  half  the  inhabitants  of  the  city,  Aunt 
Lizzie  rushed  to  the  bank.  There  an  appalling  sight 
met  their  eyes.  The  whole  river  was  alive  with 
human  beings,  scalded  and  drowning;  hundreds 
were  hanging  to  pieces  of  timber,  the  banks  were 
strewn  for  miles  with  the  dead,  and  from  the  whole 
struggling,  suffering  mass  went  up  a  heart-rending 
cry  that  froze  the  blood  of  those  who  heard  it. 
Blankets  were  spread  on  the  sand,  and  the  victims 
were  drawn  out  of  the  water  as  they  floated  past. 
Many  of  them  were  so  badly  scalded  that  the  mo- 
ment the  air  touched  their  bodies,  the  intolerable 
anguish  drove  them  back  into  the  river,  and  they 
were  lost.  But  hundreds  were  rolled  up  in  the 
blankets,  and  taken  to  the  hospitals. 

After  a  few  ambulance  loads  had  been  carried  to 
her  hospital,  Aunt  Lizzie  went  to  prepare  pailfuls 


IN  THE  GENERAL  HOSPITALS.  133 

of  liniment  for  the  burned.  She  had  personal 
charge  of  a  hundred  poor  fellows,  and  tended  them 
through  days  and  nights  of  suffering  that  cannot 
be  described. 

Great  as  was  Aunt  Lizzie's  devotion  to  the  bodily 
wants  of  her  patients,  such  care  was  but  a  trifle 
compared  with  her  anxiety  and  love  for  their  souls. 
As  an  entire  orchestra  often  plays  softly  an  accom- 
paniment to  the  clear  notes  of  a  melodious  human 
voice,  each  instrument  executing  perfectly  its  part, 
but  all  subordinate  to  the  one  aim  of  enhancing  the 
beauty  of  the  song,  so  every  little  act  of  kindness, 
every  sympathetic  word,  was  made  but  the  accom- 
paniment to  an  unceasing  message  of  peace  and 
forgiveness  from  God. 

When  twilight  brought  a  lull  in  the  labors  of 
the  day,  before  the  anguish  and  dangers  of  the  night 
began,  Aunt  Lizzie  seized  upon  the  quiet  hour  to 
distribute  her  little  hymn-books,  and  sing  the  songs 
of  a  better  life.  With  Mrs.  Sturgis  and  her  daugh- 
ter  she  led  the  music,  while  the  words  of  faith  and 
comfort  were  caught  up  by  many  a  trembling  voice. 
Sometimes  even  the  dying  joined  in  the  song,  and 
passed  away  with  words  of  Christian  triumph  on 
their  lips. 

We  have  already  noticed  instances  of  the  fervor 
and  efficacy  of  her  prayers.  Many  now  doing  good 
work  for  the  Lord,  date  back  their  conversion  to  the 


1 34      THE  STORY  OF  A  UNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN.      ' 

hospital  cot,  and  Aunt  Lizzie's  fervent  supplica- 
tions. She  stood  as  a  "  Mother  in  Israel "  in  the 
hospital,  comforting  the  sorrowing  soul  as  well  as 
soothing  the  aching  head.  One  of  her  co-laborers 
writes:  "Light  and  joy  came  to  sad  and  weary 
hearts  when  Aunt  Lizzie's  step  was  heard.  Her 
words^of  cheer,  her  delicate  appreciation  of  her  sol- 
dier boy's  wants,  as  if  a  mother  thought  what  she 
could  best  do  for  a  dear  son,  the  deep  waking  of 
soul-life,  as  by  song  and  prayer  she  ashed  Jesus  to 
bear  their  sorrows,  and  the  Comforter  to  heal  their 
broken  spirits,  will  never  be  fully  known,  till  the 
stars  in  her  crown  shall  be  shown,  when  Christ's 
words  of  commendation  shall  be  spoken." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

FIRST    TWO    YEARS    IX    CHICAGO. 

In  June,  1S65,  the  war  being  happily  over*,  the 
hospitals  were  broken  up,  and  Aunt  Lizzie  left 
Memphis  for  Peoria.  The  work,  which  had  occu- 
pied so  fully  both  heart  and  hands  during  three 
years  and  a  half,  was  finished.  With  the  necessity 
for  such  work,  her  strength  also  departed,  and  it 
was  only  by  the  greatest  care  on  the  part  of  Mother 
Sturgis,  who  accompanied  her,  that  she  was  able  to 
reach  Peoria  at  all.  In  this  emergency  the  sol- 
diers, of  whom  a  thousand  were  sent  Xorth  on  the 
same  boat,  had  some  small  opportunity  to  return 
her  many  favors.  They  carried  her  from  the  boat 
to  the  cars,  and  exhibited  the  solicitude  of  sons  for 
the  welfare  of  a  beloved  mother. 

Her  old  friend,  Mrs.  Irons,  received  her  gladly  at 
Peoria, — alas!  Aunt  Lizzie  had  no  home  of  her 
own, — and  with  the  tenderest  love  ministered  to 
her  wants  as  she  lay  ill  fur  weeks.  Xothing,  at 
that  period  of  utter  exhaustion  and  weakness,  saved 
her  life  but  her  own  composure  and  resignation  to 
(135) 


136       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

the  will  of  God,  joined  to  the  sisterly  care  of  her 
friend. 

As  she  began  to  grow  a  little  stronger,  the  ques- 
tion of  her  future  recurred.  When  on  the  journey 
from  Memphis,  she  had  been  drawn  into  conversa- 
tion by  a  stranger,  a  Christian  gentleman,  who  ques- 
tioned her  as  to  what  she  intended  to  do  on  her  ar- 
rival home.  "  I  have  no  plans  for  the  future,"  she 
replied,  "  I  return  weary  and  ill  to  the  graves  of 
those  I  love.     I  have  no  home." 

"  My  dear  madam,"  said  he,  "  what  hinders  you 
from  entering  the  missionary  work?" 

Greatly  surprised  at  his  question,  she  answered 
that  she  was  sure  he  could  not  be  acquainted  with 
her  lack  of  qualifications,  as  a  Christian  woman,  for 
such  a  work. 

"  You  are  mistaken,  madam,"  said  he,  "not  only 
have  I  often  heard  of  you,  but  I  have  myself  watch- 
ed your  hospital  labors  all  through  the  war.  Your 
army  service  has  been  the  grandest  school  to  pre- 
pare you  for  such  Christian  work." 

When  during  her  convalescence  she  pondered  on 
what  she  could  do  in  the  years  that  were  yet  before 
her,  this  question  returned  again  and  again  to  her 
mind,  "  What  hinders  you  from  entering  into  some 
kind  of  missionary  labor?"  She  therefore  decided 
quietly  to  wait  and  see  what  God  would  give  her 
to  do,  persuaded  that  if  lie  had  work  for  her,  the 
the  way  would  surely  be  pointed  out. 


FIRST  TWO  YEARS  IN  CHICAGO.  137 

In  the  early  autumn  she  went  to  Chicago  to  visit 
a  friend,  who  had  heard  of  her  ill  health,  and  in- 
vited her  to  come  and  make  a  long  visit.  The  first 
breath  of  the  bracing  lake  air  seemed  to  invigorate 
the  frame  enervated  by  the  trying  climate  of  the 
South. 

Six  pleasant  weeks  were  spent  in  rest  and  recrea- 
tion ;  then  her  friend  was  suddenly  called  away  from 
the  city.  She  urged  Aunt  Lizzie  to  make  her  house 
her  home  for  the  winter,  and  left  her  in  charge  dur- 
ing her  absence.  But  Aunt  Lizzie  could  not  be 
content  to  remain.  She  felt  that  the  time  had  come 
when  she  must  begin  to  care  for  herself.  She  tried 
in  every  way  to  procure  employment  of  some  kind, 
but  failed  in  all  her  efforts.  At  last  one  day,  weary 
and  discouraged,  she  returned  to  her  room,  and 
throwing  herself  on  her  knees,  with  many  bitter 
tears,  laid  the  case  before  her  heavenly  Father. 
She  knew  from  long  experience  that  here  was  her 
only  refuge,  and  casting  herself  upon  Almighty 
Love,  she  resolved  to  trust  God  for  the  future. 
With  renewed  strength  she  started  out  again  on  her 
search,  when,  distinctly,  as  if  it  had  been  suggested 
by  some  voice  outside  herself,  came  the  thought  that 
she  had  better  apply  to  the  editor  of  the  "  Stan- 
dard." Mr.  Church  received  her  with  great  kind- 
ness. She  told  him  that  after  looking  lon^r  for  some 
occupation,  she  had  almost  decided  to  take  the  only 
12 


138       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  A  IK  EX. 

work  which  offered  itself,  that  of  folding  papers  in 
a  printing  office. 

"'My  dear  Madam,"  he  said,  "  you  are  qualified 
for  some  better  position  than  that.  Your  many 
years  of  experience  in  Christian  work  should  not 
be  lost  in  this  city,  where  such  labors  are  so  much 
needed.  Let  me  give  you  a  letter  of  introduction 
to  Mrs.  Everts,  the  wife  of  the  pastor  of  the  First 
Baptist  Church.  She  is  a  lady  who  will  appreciate 
your  desire  to  serve  the  Master,  and  also  will  know 
of  any  opening  that  there  may  be  in  that  direction." 

"With  a  hopeful  heart,  Aunt  Lizzie  went  imme- 
diately to  call  on  Mrs.  Everts,  and  met  with  a  re- 
ception which  relieved  all  her  anxieties.  Mrs. 
Everts  listened  to  the  story  with  the  graceful  cour- 
tesy which  always  distinguished  her,  and  when  it 
was  finished,  took  both  Aunt  Lizzie's  hands  in  hers, 
kissed  her,  saying  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  "  God  has 
surely  sent  you  to  me;  I  have  work  for  you  to  do. 
Stay  with  me  to  lunch,  and  we  will  go  this  afternoon 
to  visit  the  '  Erring  Woman's  Refuge.'  I  have  long 
wanted  a  missionary  to  labor  in  connection  with 
that  institution,  and  you  are  the  very  one  we  need." 

Shortly  after,  a  meeting  of  ladies  was  called  who 
offered  Aunt  Lizzie  a  home  at  the  Refuge,  and  fifty 
dollars  for  three  months'  work,  a  remuneration 
manifestly  so  inadequate,  that  it  was  afterwards 
raised  to  twentv-five  dollars  a  month,  the  salary  to 


FIRST  TWO  YEARS  IN  QHICAGO.  130 

be  paid  by  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association, 
in  individual  subscriptions.  She,  on  her  part,  was 
to  act  as  general  city  missionary,  but  was  expected 
to  do  special  work  for  the  "  Refuge."  This  place 
she  continued  to  fill  for  two  years,  at  the  end  of 
which  time,  the  funds  of  the  Board  running  low,  it 
was  deemed  necessary  to  dispense  with  her  services. 
Extracts  from  letters  and  her  diary  will  best  tell 
the  story  of  that  two  years'  work : 

"By  coming  to  Chicago,  I  am  introduced  into  a  new  chap- 
ter, in  which  every  clay  teaches  me  most  painful  lessons.  To- 
day has  been  so  gloomy,  dark  and  cloudy  !  How  drearily  these 
autumn  winds  sweep  over  the  prairies  and  through  the  long 
streets  of  this  great  city.  The  withered  leaves  fly  before  them 
and  whisper  of  decay  and  death.  I  draw  my  old  beaver  cloak 
more  closely  about  me,  and  tie  on  my  hood  tightly,  hastening 
home  to  a  warm  fireside  ;  but  how  is  it  with  thousands  in  this 
city,  who  have  no  comfortable  homes  inviting  their  return,  noth- 
ing but  scanty  garments  to  shield  them  from  the  cold  blast? 
To-day  I  saw  some  little,  half-clad,  barefooted  children  gather- 
ing a  few  chips  and  pieces  of  boards,  which  some  carpenters 
had  left  behind.  Do  they  not  feel  the  cold  as  much  as  I? 
Then  I  saw  a  poor,  old  woman  bowed  with  age,  carrying  her 
t  of  waste  sticks,  she  had  gathered  from  the  streets,  to  her 
cheerless  garret.  Feels  she  not  in  her  old  frame  thit  piercing 
cold  ?  I  see  so  many  painml  sights.  One  day  I  met  a  crippled 
soldier,  his  ragged  blue  uniform,  witness  of  his  noble  daring, 
was  all  the  clothes  he  had.  His  good  right  arm  had  been  given 
for  his  country.  Does  the  glory  of  having  fought  in  defense  of 
his  country  make  him  warm?  Does  it  chase  away  the  look  of 
sorrow  from  the  face  of  his  discouraged  wife?1' 

"  Oct.  2Sdt  1865.— My  heavenly  Father,  Thou  alone  art  able  to 


140       THE  STORY  OF  lUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

help  virtue  triumph  over  vice  ;  aid  me,  oh  give  me  access  to  the 
hearts  of  those  I  meet.  Oh  Thou,  who  knowest  my  heart,  give 
me  the  key  to  reach  conscience,  to  rouse  that  blessed  monitor 
within  the  human  breast,  and  draw  the  erring  from  the  paths 
of  sin.     Grant  me  the  spirit  of  Jesus." 

A  work  commenced  in  such  consecration  to  God, 
and  sympathy  for  the  poor  and  erring,  could  not 
fail  to  be  successful.  Wherever  Aunt  Lizzie  went 
she  made  friends.  Even  the  most  degraded  received 
her  kindly,  and  wept,  though  too  often  with  trans- 
ient repentance,  while  she  prayed  for  them  and  en- 
treated them  to  leave  their  evil  ways.  Her  co- 
laborers,  during  those  two  years  at  the  u  Refuge," 
speak  of  her  arrival  among  them  as  a  priceless  bless- 
ing. One  of  them  writes :  "  For  two  years  she  went 
out  and  came  in,  all  the  time  sustaining  the  most 
lovely  Christian  character,  which  was  of  untold  worth 
among  the  inmates  of  our  '  Home.'  To  say  that 
we  loved  her  is  tame  and  feeble.  The  cheer  which 
she  always  brought  with  her  was  so  welcome  to  us 
who  had  so  many  discouragements." 

Many  interesting  incidents  of  Aunt  Lizzie's  work 
as  a  missionary  for  the  "  Refuge  "  might  be  told. 
]STo  one,  not  similarly  employed,  can  dream  of  the 
srreat  hinderances  against  which  she  strove  in  her 
endeavors  to  save  souls.  To  her  untiring  zeal  and 
exhaustless  charity,  many  owe  their  return  to  a  life 
of  virtue.  It  is  but  due  to  them  that  their  sad  sto- 
ries shall  be  forever  buried.     God  forbid  that  even 


FIBST  TWO  YEARS  IX  CHICAGO.  141 

the  ghost  of  the  past  should  arise  on  these  pages  to 
reproach  them. 

The  story  of  poor  Minnie  may,  however,  be  told, 
for  she  is  beyond  all  fear  of  cruel  remembrances. 
She  was  a  lovely  orphan  child  of  fifteen,  with  long 
yellow  curls  and  dark  blue  eyes,  sent  alone  to  the 
city  by  an  aunt,  thoughtless  or  ignorant  of  its  dan- 
gers. She  fell  into  wicked  hands,  and  had  not 
Christian  principle  enough  to  fly  from  the  snares 
laid  for  her.  Aunt  Lizzie  met  her  often  on  the 
street,  or  in  the  cars,  and  knowing  her  sin,  tried  in 
every  way  to  persuade  her  to  come  to  the  "  Refuge." 
At  last,  after  long  weeks  of  patient  labor,  Aunt  Liz- 
zie had  the  satisfaction  of  bringing  the  erring  child 
home  with  her. 

Though  hard  to  win,  Minnie  gave  herself  up  en- 
tirely to  the  friend  who  had  sought  her  out.  Once 
safe  within  the  walls  of  the  Refuge,  she  seemed 
suddenly  to  realize  the  horror  of  the  abyss  from 
which  she  had  been  plucked,  and  throwing  herself 
into  Aunt  Lizzie's  arms  she  cried,  u  Oh  save  me, 
save  me,  I  cling  to  you."  "  Poor,  helpless  child,  " 
returned  Aunt  Lizzie,  folding  her  closely  to  her 
heart,  "  poor,  helpless  child,  indeed  I  will  keep 
you.  "  With  tender  solicitude  she  represented  the 
pitying  Savior,  standing  even  then  ready  to  receive 
every  penitent  soul.  "  You.  may  cling  to  him  for 
safety,  "  she  said,  "  he  will   forgive  you  and  keep 


142      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

you  as  no  .earthly  friend  can.  "  The  gospel  thus 
lovingly  preached  was  accepted  with  joy.  Every 
day  gave  evidences  of  repentance  and  faith,  and 
Aunt  Lizzie  rejoiced  greatly  over  the  lamb  which 
she  had  found. 

But  it  soon  became  apparent  that  consumption 
had  fastened  itself  upon  the  young  girl ;  the  blue  eyes 
grew  large  and  bright,  and  a  rosy  spot  glowed  on 
the  fair  cheek.  As  she  became  every  day  weaker, 
her  beauty  seemed  ever  to  increase.  At  first  she  ad- 
ded much  to  the  happiness  of  the  hedged-in  house- 
hold by  her  musical  talent,  but  soon  her  feeble  fin- 
gers forsook  the  keys.  Morning  and  evening  Aunt 
Lizzie  spent  a  few  minutes  of  devotion  with  her, 
and  was  delighted  and  surprised  at  the  depth  of  her 
repentance  and  faith.  After  awhile  she  was  too 
weak  to  leave  her  bed,  and  when  she  had  been  in 
Aunt  Lizzie's  care  about  ten  months,  she  died. 
Her  end  was  peace.  All  that  last  morning  she  laid 
with  her  head  on  a  pillow  on  Aunt  Lizzie's  lap. 
As  that  kind  friend  laid  her  hand  on  the  flaxen 
tresses  which  rippled  over  the  pillow,  Minnie 
opened  her  eyes  and,  looking  up  lovingly  into  her 
face,  said  softly,  "  I  have  had  no  mother,  but  you 
have  been  more  than  a  mother  to  me."  After  a  while 
she  whispered  in  reply  to  Aunt  Lizzie's  anxious 
question,  "  I  know  I  love  the  Savior;  I  know  He  has 
forgiven  me.     I  know  this  because  my  soul  trusts 


FIRST  TWO  TEARS  IN  CHICAGO.  143 

in   Him."     Then    she   quietly  passed   away  to  that 
land  where  there  is  no  sorrow  and  no  sin. 

Many  tears  were  shed  at  the  funeral,  as  Aunt  Liz- 
zie, standing  beside  the  beautiful  clay,  repeated  stan- 
zas from  Hood's  Bridge  of  Si^hs. 

11  Take  her  up  tenderly, 

Lift  her  with  care; — 

Fashioned  so  slenderly, 

Young,  and  so  fair! 
******* 

"Owning  her  weakness, 
Her  evil  behavior, 
And  leaving,  with  meekness, 
Her  sins  to  her  Savior!  " 
"  My  Father,"  writes  Aunt  Lizzie,  in  her  diary,  "oh  help  me 
not  to  weary  over  my  tasks,  not  to  faint  under  my  burdens. 
My  heavenly  Father,  permit  no  shadows  from  the  wing  of  doubt 
to  dim  my  eye  of  faith.     Help  me  to  work  on  in  this  noble  call- 
ing, sending  abroad  on  every  passing  breeze  the  winged  germs 
that  shall  fall  on  good  and  honest  hearts,  in  this  great  and 
wicked  city." 

Monday.  Jan.  lith,  1S67. — Every  day  convinces  me  more  that 
the  world  is  not  mine.  Thank  God  it  is  not!  It  is  dropping 
away  from  me  like  worn-out  autumn  leaves,  but  beneath  it, 
hidden  in  it,  there  is  another  world,  lying  as  the  flower  lies  in 
the  bud.  That  world  is  mine,  and  will  burst  forth  by  and  by, 
into  eternal  luxuriance. 

—1  am  more  and  more  convinced  every  day  of  my 
life,  that  if  I  would  do  these  poor  fallen  girls  good,  I  must  do 
rist  did;  put  my  hands  upon  them.  As  long  as  they  see 
that,  however  much  I  wish  to  do  them  good,  yet  I  have  a  re- 
pugnance to  coming  in  contact  with  them,  they  will  never  trust 
or  confide  in  me. 


ltttt      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

The  only  report  of  Aunt  Lizzie's  work  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Refuge,  which  can  be  found,  extends 
only  over  the  first  seven  months.  Taking  that  as  a 
criterion  of  the  whole  two  years,  she  probably  made 
as  many  as  five  thousand  visits  of  all  kinds,  a  thou- 
sand of  which  were  for  the  express  purpose  of  sav- 
ing unhappy,  sinful  women,  and  inducing  them  to 
return  with  her  to  the  Refuge.  Between  forty  and 
fifty  were  persuaded  so  to  do,  and  if  a  few  of  them 
wandered  off  again  to  their  old  haunts,  it  was  in 
spite  of  the  tenderest  care  and  Christian  watchful- 
ness on  the  part  of  the  devoted  women  who  took 
charge  of  them.  Many  were  saved,  and  to-day  bless 
the  fearless  woman  who,  undaunted  by  danger,  in 
the  spirit  of  the  Great  Shepherd,  went  out  after 
them  until  she  found  them.  Over  these  she  re- 
joices— aye,  and  will  rejoice  through  all  eternity. 

In  connection  with  her  other  missionary  work, 
Aunt  Lizzie  established  and  carried  on  during  these 
two  years  a  "Mothers'  Meeting,"  where  she  instructed 
poor  women  in  sewing,  giving  them  also  religious 
teaching,  and  advice  in  the  training  of  their  chil- 
dren. She  was  led  in  part  to  this  work  by  her  ob- 
servation of  the  great  need  of  stricter  maternal  dis- 
cipline. "  So  many  are  ruined  by  the  carelessness 
of  their  mothers,"  she  writes  in  her  journal.  "As 
I  look  upon  the  faces  of  these  poor  girls  in  our  fam- 
ily at  the  Refuge,  I  behold  the  results  of  the  over- 


FIRST  TWO  YEARS  IN  CHICAGO.  115 

indulgence  of  some  mothers.  How  many  to-night 
mourn  over  their  wayward  daughters!  Oh  that 
every  mother  in  this  land  could  look  upon  this  fam- 
ily and  see  her  duty  to  her  children."  Such  thoughts 
led  to  the  establishment  of  this  meeting  for  mothers, 
which  brought  the  good  news  of  salvation  to  many. 
In  July  1867,  Aunt  Lizzie  found  herself  very 
much  exhausted,  and  failing  in  health.  A  month's 
vacation  was  spent  at  Peoria,  the  beloved  spot  where 
all  her  burdens  seemed  to  drop  off.  Here,  as  every- 
where, she  strove  to  interest  those  with  whom 
she  came  in  contact  in  her  work,  and  successfully. 
While  she  lay  ill  on  the  sofa,  the  ladies  came  to- 
gether and  put  up  two  hundred  pounds  of  fruit, 
which  the  Sunday-school  scholars  gathered,  bring- 
ing to  Aunt  Lizzie  great  baskets  of  cherries,  and 
pails  of  all  kinds  of  seasonable  berries.  The  cans 
and  sugar  were  donated  by  the  grocers.  Thus,  when 
refreshed  by  much-needed  rest,  she  returned  to  the 
Refuge,  she  did  not  come  empty-handed.  But  a 
great  change  was  before  her.  The  problem  which 
the  ladies  who  founded  the  "  Refuge  "  endeavored  to 
solve  is  one  so  tangled  and  hopeless,  that  the  greater 
part  of  Aunt  Lizzie's  labor  was  necessarily  thrown 
away  upon  those  who  made  no  response  whatever 
to  her  message  of  Christian  forgiveness.  The  lost 
sheep  had  no  desire  to  be  saved,  and  even  when 
her  prayers  and  tears  awoke  repentanee,  their  wills 
13 


146      THE  STORY  OF  A  UNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

were  so  enslaved  by  the  fascinations  which  surround- 
ed them,  that  they  lacked  the  moral  courage  to  dis- 
engage themselves  from  their  sinful  life.  Even 
those  who  have  been  led  into  vice  by  the  wickedness 
of  others  often  become  content  with  their  degrada- 
tion, and  hopeless  of  anything  better.  The  efforts 
of  a  single  arm  even  though  it  be  that  of  a  strong 
swimmer,  seem  powerless  to  buffet  the  waves  of 
both  public  censure  and  sinful  allurement.  Even  if 
rescued,  many  return  again  to  their  life  of  vice. 
The  strong  hand  of  the  law  is  needed  to  put  a  stop 
to  such  a  state  of  things.  Crime  must  be  recognized 
and  punished  as  such.  And  yet,  alas,  a  great  ele- 
vation of  Christian  sentiment  must  be  attained 
before  this  will  be  possible.  Surely,  so  long  as  these 
terrible  vices  walk  with  impunity  through  the  streets 
of  our  cities,  the  church  has  no  time  to  take  her 
ease  and  amuse  herself  among  the  booths  of  Vanity 
Fair. 

In  Sept.,  1867,  Aunt  Lizzie  writes  in  her  journal: 

"  The  committee  met  to-day,  and  announced  to  me  that  they 
feared  that  they  could  not  employ  me  any  longer.  They  felt  that 
they  needed  me  much,  but  saw  no  way  in  which  they  could  sus- 
tain me.  I  received  the  news  calmly  ;  I  went  into  my  room  and 
held  my  Bible  close  to  my  heart,  for  it  was  all  that  I  had,  weep- 
ing all  alone,  when  I  remembered  the  dying  words  of  my  old 
grandfather,  uttered  many  years  ago:  •  '  Only  trust  Him,  only 
trust  Him,'  and  kneeling  down  beside  my  bed,  I  prayed,  when 
it  seemed  to  me  I  could  almost  hear  the  gentle  voice  of  Jesus 
saying:     '  Have  I  ever  left  you;  do  you  think  I  will  leave  you 


FIRST  TWO  YEARS  IX  CHICAGO.  147 

now  ? '  I  was  comforted — I  can  scarcely  tell  how,  but  I  laid 
down  and  slept.  In  the  morning-  I  arose  feeling-  remarkably 
calm  and  trustful,  sure  that  some  way  would  be  opened  for  me 
that  would  be  right  and  best." 

Hearing  of  a  position  in  St.  Louis,  she  applied 
to  Col.  Gilmore,  head  of  the  Chicago  post-office, 
who  promised  to  obtain  for  her  a  railroad  pass  to 
that  city,  but  being  busy,  he  postponed  doing  it 
till  the  following  morning.  When  Aunt  Lizzie  re- 
turned the  next  day,  she  found  the  post-office  draped 
with  mourning,  and  learned  that  her  friend  had  been 
drowned  while  bathing  the  preceding  evening.  Of 
course  her  journey  to  St.  Louis  was  rendered  impos- 
sible, as  she  could  not  afford  to  pay  the  price  of  a 
ticket.  She  decided  to  await  the  return  of  another 
acquaintance,  of  influence  in  procuring  passes,  who 
was  absent  from  the  city.  In  the  meantime,  she  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  the  superintendent  of  the  Sun- 
day-school of  the  Second  Baptist  church  of  Chicago, 
offering  her  a  situation  as  missionary  of  the  school. 

"Sunday,  Sept.  8th. — This  morning,  according  to  promise, 
visited  the  Sunday-school.  Bro.  Holden  introduced  me  to  the 
scholars  as  their  new  missionary.  I  could  only  reply  to  them 
by  saying:  ■  Never  be  afraid  to  speak  for  Jesus,  never  be 
afraid  to  work  for  Jesus,  never  be  afraid  to  live  for  Jesus,  never 
be  afraid  to  die  for  Jesus.'  After  I  had  addressed  a  few  words 
to  the  children,  the  pastor,  Rev.  Mr.  Goodspeed,  gave  me  a 
most  cordial  welcome.  The  school  closed  by  singing  '  Never  be 
afraid  to  speak  for  Jesus.'  I  then  listened  to  an  able  sermon 
by  the  pastor,  from  these  words :  '  But  it  is  good  to  be  zeal- 
ously affected  always  in  a  good  thing.'  " 


148      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

Soon  after,  amid  the  tears  and  regrets  of  all  in 
the  house,  she  left  the  Refuge,  to  begin  her  work, 
which  still  continues,  with  the  Second  Baptist 
Church  of  Chicago.  "Once  more  I  committed  my- 
self to  God  and  strangers,  and  time  will  show  how 
I  stand  the  test,"  she  writes  to  a  friend.  Time  has 
shown;  she  has  stood  for  twelve  years  among  the 
members  of  that  church,  a  tower  of  strength,  the 
center  of  an  influence  how  wide  and  salutary  her 
most  intimate  friends  scarcely  know.  Fitted  by  her 
very  failings  to  do  work  among  the  poor  and  the 
tempted,  she  fills  a  place  that  few  will  realize  until 
some  day  it  will  be  empty,  when  she  will  not  be 
there,  because  God  has  taken  her. 


CHAPTERVII. 

A  UNT  LIZZIE  IN  THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL. 

The  position  to  which  Aunt  Lizzie  was  apppoint- 
ed  by  the  Second  Baptist  Church  was  that  of  Sun- 
day-school missionary.  Her  work  was  to  gather 
children  into  the  school,  to  instruct  classes  unpro- 
vided with  teachers,  to  entertain  such  strangers  as 
might  drop  into  the  school  on  Sunday  morning,  and 
to  visit  and  look  after  absentees.  Such  a  work  in 
connection  with  a  Sabbath-school,  which  at  times 
enrolls  on  its  book  of  members  over  a  thousand 
names,  is  broad  enough  to  employ  the  time  and 
task  the  energies  of  any  woman.  It  is,  however, 
but  the  beginning  of  Aunt  Lizzie's  labors  in  the 
Second  Church.  She  has  really  been  church  mis- 
sionary, visiting  the  sick  and  the  poor  and  inter- 
esting herself  in  everybody  and  every  good  thing 
connected  with  the  congregation.  All  these  dif- 
ferent lines  of  work  have,  in  course  of  time,  be- 
come as  closely  intertwined  as  the  different  colored 
strands  in  a  Persian  carpet,  and  it  is  almost  im- 
possible to  separate  them.  Still,  for  many  reasons, 
(149) 


150      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

it  lias  seemed  to  us  best  to  analyze  her  labors,  and 
we  begin,  as  she  did,  with  her  work  in  the  Sunday- 
school. 

She  has  the  first  and  greatest  qualification  of  a 
good  teacher — unbounded  affection  for  children  and 
sympathy  with  them.  "When  amoug  them  she  be- 
comes, for  the  time  being,  a  child  herself,  and  en- 
joys a  good  game  as  well  as  when  she  was  a  little 
girl.  How  often  have  I  seen  her  surrounded  by  the 
younger  members  of  my  own  family,  questioning 
the  older  children  about  their  success  in  study  or 
sport,  looking  at  picture  books  with  the  little  girls 
or  admiring  their  dollies'  dresses,  praising  their 
sewing,  or  binding  up  cut  fingers.  The  unanimous 
verdict  of  all  children  is,  "  How  nice  it  would  be  if 
Aunt  Lizzie  were  our  own  auntie  and  lived  in  our 
house." 

Then  she  has  great  love  for  Sunday-school  work, 
and  thoroughly  believes  in  it.  There  is  nothing 
half-hearted  in  her  desire  for  the  conversion  of 
children.  Converted  herself  at  twelve  years  of 
ao-e,  she  knows  that  a  child  can  believe  in  Christ, 
and  all  her  subsequent  experience  and  observation 
have  only  strengthened  her  in  this  faith.  Thrqugh 
long  years  of  work  in  the  church,  she  has  found 
that  those  who  profess  conversion  in  early  life  prove, 
as  a  rule,  to  be  the  most  consistent  and  faithful 
Christians,  and  that  the  results  of  Sunday-school 


7.Y  THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL.  151 

work  are  actually  greater  than  those  of  any  other 
method  of  labor.  "With  such  convictions  of  the 
heart  as  well  as  the  head,  Aunt  Lizzie  entered  upon 
her  career  as  Sunday-school  missionary. 

At  the  very  beginning  of  her  work,  she  drew  up 
for  herself  a  series  of  rules  of  life  which  are  well 
worth  the  study  of  every  teacher. 

"  I  am  resolved  that  I  will  never,  either  in  the  morning  or  the 
evening,  proceed  to  any  work,  until  I  have  first  retired,  at  least 
for  a  few  moments,  to  a  private  place  and  implored  God  for  his 
assistance  and  blessing." 

"  I  will  neither  do,  nor  undertake  anything  which  T  would 
abstain  from  doing  if  Jesus  Christ  were  standing  visibly  at  my 
side;  nor  anything  of  which  I  think  it  is  possible  that  I  shall 
repent  in  the  uncertain  hour  of  my  certain  death. 

"  I  will,  with  God's  help,  accustom  myself  to  do  everything 
without  exception,  in  the  name  of  Jesus,  and,  as  his  disciple,  to 
sigh  unto  God  continually,  keeping  myself  in  a  constant  disposi- 
tion for  prayer. 

"Every  day  shall  be  distinguished  by  at  least  one  particular 
wish  of  love. 

"  Wherever  I  go  I  will  first  pray  to  God  that  I  may  commit 
no  sin  there,  but  may  be  the  cause  of  some  good. 

M  I  will  every  evening  examine  my  conduct  by  these  rules. 

"  Oh  God,  thou  seest  what  I  have  written.  May  I  be  able  to 
read  these  my  resolutions  every  morning  with  sincerity,  and 
every  evening  with  joy." 

In  this  spirit  she  began  her  labors,  which  have 
continued  without  intermission  for  almost  twelve 
years.  The  history  and  manner  of  her  work  can 
best  be  told  by  incidents,  for  this  is  a  life  where 


152      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

deeds  speak  louder  than  any  amount  of  written 
theory  or  any  number  of  statistics. 

In  the  early  days  of  her  work  for  the  Second 
Church,  she  met  a  little  fellow  selling  newspapers. 
He  ran  up  to  her,  and  said,  "Lady,  will  you  buy  a 
paper?"  His  bright,  though  dirty  face  attracted  her 
attention,  and  in  order  to  begin  an  acquaintance,  she 
took  and  paid  for  one.  As  she  was  opening  her 
purse,  she  said  to  him.  "  My  lad,  do  you  go  to 
Sunday-school?" 

" Ko,"  said  he,  "no  one  ever  asked  me  to  attend."' 
She  cordially  invited  him  to  meet  her  at  the  church- 
door  the  next  Sunday  morning,  and  bring  with  him 
any  of  his  brothers  or  sisters  who  could  come.  He 
replied  that  he  had  but  one  brother,  and  that  they 
would  be  sure  to  be  on  hand. 

Aunt  Lizzie  gave  him  one  of  her  little  cards  of 
invitation,  on  which  is  the  direction  to  the  church, 
and  passing  on  to  other  interests,  the  chance  meet- 
ing slipped  from  her  mind. 

"What  was  her  pleasure  on  nearing  the  door  of 
the  school-room  the  next  Sunday  morning  to  see 
two  little  boys,  with  well  washed  faces  and  clean 
collars,  waiting  for  her.  As  she  came  down  the 
street  they  flew  to  meet  her,  and  entered  the  school- 
room holding  tightly  the  hands  of  their  only  friend 
in  that  strange  place. 

Aunt  Lizzie  placed  them  in  charge  of  a  teacher 


IN  THE  SUNDAJ  SCHOOL.  153 

whom  she  knew  to  be  faithful,  one  who  watched  for 
souls.  But  she  did  not  lose  her  personal  interest 
in  them.  Her  soul  yearned  for  their  conversion, 
and  with  many  prayers  she  besought  the  Great 
Shepherd  to  gather  these  lambs  into  His  fold.  Nor 
were  her  hopes  frustrated.  The  older  brother,  the 
bright-faced  newsboy,  received  in  that  Sunday-school 
a  new  and  higher  impulse,  both  for  this  life  and 
the  better  life  which  is  in  Christ.  He  was  convert- 
ed and  united  with  the  church  when  about  fifteen 
years  old.  Shortly  after  he  left  the  city  to  attend 
college,  where  he  worked  day  and  night  to  earn 
money  with  which  to  pay  for  his  education.  He 
graduated  with  great  honor,  one  of  the  best  schol- 
ars in  his  class,  and  is  to-day  a  prosperous  surveyor, 
and  an  honored  Christian  man. 
:  Thus  it  is  that  Aunt  Lizzie  sees  many  of  her 
Sunday-school  boys  and  girls,  filling  places  of  in- 
fluence and  trust  in  the  Christian  church,  and  the 
sight  is  the  crowning  joy  of  her  life. 

No  doubt  they  make  better  men  and  women  on 
account  of  the  education  in  benevolence  which  they 
receive  from  Aunt  Lizzie.  She  calls  upon  the  chil- 
dren to  help  her  in  her  work  among  the  sick  and 
the  poor.  In  her  life  among  the  dying  in  the  hos- 
pitals, she  learned  to  appreciate  the  value  of  flowers 
to  the  sick,  and  some  years  ago  resolved  to  start  a 
flower  mission  in  the  Snnday-schooL     One  spring 


164:      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

when  the  time  came  around  for  planting  gardens, 
she  called  upon  the  children  and  their  parents  to 
assist  her  by  raising  flowers  for  distribution.  Soon 
the  bouquets  began  to  adorn  the  school-room,  some- 
times as  many  as  forty  or  fifty  were  brought;  these 
were  put  in  water  till  after  church,  when  Aunt 
Lizzie  gave  one  to  each  child,  who  volunteered  to 
deliver  them,  with  the  number  of  the  house  of  some 
sick  or  poor  person,  and  sent  off  a  happy  company 
of  little  home  missionaries.  The  enthusiasm  of  the 
children  spread  to  their  parents,  who  frequently 
brought  bouquets  to  the  church  for  Aunt  Lizzie's 
flower  mission,  and  children  living  a  little  out  of 
town  added  their  contribution  of  wild-flowers. 
This  proved  a  most  blessed  idea  not  only  for  those 
who  received,  but  also  for  those  who  gave. 

But  Aunt  Lizzie  does  not  confine  her  young  help- 
ers to  the  aesthetic  wants  of  the  needy.  She  calls 
upon  the  school  to  help  her  gather  clothing  for  the 
poor,  especially,  for  such  scholars  as  need  aid.  It 
is  wonderful  how  greatly  the  Christ-like  spirit  of 
benevolence  can  be  quickened  in  the  hearts  of  some 
children.  Blessed  is  the  memory  of  one  lovely 
child.  Every  spring  and  fall  she  brought  all  the 
clothes  she  could  beg  from  her  mother,  and  opening 
her  bundle,  would  say,  "  Aunt  Lizzie,  this,  I  think, 
will  do  for  that  boy  in  Mr.  A's class;  did  you  notice 
how  old  his  jacket  is?     And  this  dress  is  just  large 


IN  THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL.  155 

enough  for  that  girl  in  Miss  B's  class."  Thus  her 
quick  eyes  often  noted  poverty  which  asking  noth- 
ing, might  otherwise  have  been  overlooked. 

During  the  winter,  when  the  Benevolent  Society 
of  the  church  provides  great  quantities  of  clothing, 
and  often  provisions,  for  Aunt  Lizzie  to  dispense, 
she  calls  to  her  aid  the  Sunday-school  boys,  who 
delight  to  carry  her  bundles,  and  receive  many  a 
lesson  of  kindness  and  sympathy  from  her  lips.  Of 
all  this  great  number  of  children,  with  whom  she 
comes  in  contact  in  the  Sunday-school,  she  remem- 
bers in  a  remarkable  manner  the  faces  and  the 
names.  Meeting  them  anywhere  upon  the  street, 
she  says,  a  How  is  my  boy  ¥'  or  "  How  is  my  girl  ? 
How  do  mother  and  father  do  V  recalling  in  a  flash 
all  the  circumstances  of  the  family.  Thus  each 
child  looks  on  her  as  his  special  friend,  and  growing 
up  consults  her  as  a  mother,  in  the  trials  that  come 
with   increasing  years   and  responsibilities. 

Saturday  is  in  a  special  manner  Aunt  Lizzie's 
Sunday-school  day.  On  Saturday,  she  distributes 
clothing  to  scholars,  who,  without  it,  would  be  un- 
able to  attend  school  next  morning.  On  Saturday, 
she  often  accompanies  the  teacher  who  chooses  that 
time  to  visit  her  scholars,  since  the  public  schools 
are  then  closed,  and  they  are  usually  at  home. 
Many  sweet  seasons  of  Christian  communion  are 
enjoyed  as  they  talk  of  Christ  by  the  way.     It  has 


156      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN, 

been  for  many  years  a  habit  of  this  Sunday-school 
for  the  classes  occasionally  to  meet  at  the  house  of 
their  teacher  on  Saturday  afternoon,  to  take  tea. 
From  these  reunions,  so  full  of  pleasure  to  the  chil- 
dren, Aunt  Lizzie  is  rarely  absent.  She  always 
brings  with  her  that  good  humor,  which,  as  she 
says  in  her  diary,  is  to  her  mind  "  the  clear  blue  sky 
of  the  soul  on  which  every  star  of  talent  shines 
more  and  more  clearly,  the  most  exquisite  beauty 
of  a  handsome  face  and  the  most  redeeming  feature 
of  a  homely  one,"  a  good  humor  which  is  infectious, 
and  adds  to  the  pleasure  of  the  gayest  little  com- 
pany. 

During  the  summer,  her  greatest  pleasure  is  to 
join  in  the  class  picnics  in  which  the  teacher  and 
children  now  and  then  indulge.  Sometimes  they  go 
to  one  of  the  lovely  parks,  which  are  found  on  the 
outskirts  of  our  city ;  sometimes  they  are  invited  to 
spend  the  afternoon  with  some  friends  so  happy  as 
to  live  in  the  country. 

But  the  crowning  event  of  the  summer  is  the  an- 
nual picnic  of  the  entire  school,  though  it  must  be 
confessed  that  to  Aunt  Lizzie  it  is  a  day  of  great 
toil  and  care.  Some  weeks  beforehand  she  is  en- 
gaged in  preparing  for  the  occasion.  Many  poor 
children,  scarcely  ever  less  than  fifty,  come  to  her 
with  very  long,  sad  faces  and  say,  "Aunt  Lizzie,  I 
cannot  go  to  the  picnic  because  I  went  last  year,  and 


IN  THE  S  VXD  A  Y  SCHOOL.  157 

Joe  the  year  before.  Mother  says  she  cannot  get 
clothes  to  make  me  look  nicely  enough.  "  "  Xever 
mind^  my  dear,  n  says  Aunt  Lizzie,  "  I  will  see  to 
it.  "  And  sure  enough,  a  day  or  two  before  they  are 
needed,  jackets,  shoes  and  dresses  are  mysteriously 
found  and  supplied,  while  nobody  enjoys  the  picnic 
so  much  as  those  who  did  not  expect  to  go,  unless, 
it  may  be,  those  who  provide  Aunt  Lizzie  with 
the  means  of  sending  them. 

'When  the  baskets  are  packed  for  dinner,  each 
family  provides  for  an  extra  person,  and  bakers  fre- 
quently send  in  boxes  of  crackers  and  gingerbread, 
so  that  Aunt  Lizzie's  family  does  not  go  hungry  or 
lack  for  a  share  of  all'the  dainties. 

But  Aunt  Lizzie's  labors  among  the  children  are 
by  no  means  confined  to  the  period  of  their  active 
membership  in  the  Sunday-school.  She  has  a  mis- 
sion of  comfort  and  aid  for  those  who  are  sick.  Her 
visiting  list  has  included  many  helpless  children, 
whose  beds  of  pain  have  been  smoothed  by  her  kind 
touch.  She  gathers  pictures  and  copies  of  cheerful 
verses,  or  short  stories,  puts  them  into  a  little  box, 
and  places  them  in  the  eager  hands  of  the  little  in- 
valid, who  finds  many  a  weary  hour  shortened  by 
her  thoughtfulness.  She  spends  much  time  in 
reading  to  them,  and  does  not  count  the  minutes 
wasted  when  she  is  cheering  or  amusing  a  sick 
child. 


158      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

The  story  of  one  dear  child,  who  is  not,  for  God 
took  her,  illustrates  Aunt  Lizzie's  eare  of  her  schol- 
ars in  want  and  sickness.  Some  ten  years  ago, 
Aunt  Lizzie  became  interested  in  a  little  family  con- 
sisting of  a  mother  and  three  children.  The  eldest, 
a  charming  girl  eight  years  old,  she  led  into  the 
Sim  day-school.  The  mother  was  compelled  to  labor 
as  a  sales-woman,  in  order  to  sustain  her  little  ones, 
and  the  children  were  left  all  day  in  the  care  of  the 
oldest  sister.  Aunt  Lizzie,  knowing  of  their  lonely 
life,  and  feeling  that  she  must  do  the  work  which 
their  mother  was  unable  to  perform,  fell  into  the 
habit  of  paying  them  frequent  visits,  which  were  full 
of  joy  to  them  all.  They  were  good  singers,  and  Aunt 
Lizzie  spent  much  time  in  teaching  them  hymns 
and  Sunday-school  songs.  She  taught  them  also 
the  Scriptures,  and  was  surprised  at  the  maturity 
and  beauty  of  the  mind  of  the  little  girl,  who  acted 
as  mother  to  the  younger  children  during  the  long 
hours  of  the  day,  with  a  thoughtful  care  and  kind- 
ness that  could  not  be  too  much  admired.  Very 
soon  the  prayers  and  instructions  of  her  loving 
friend  resulted  in  the  conversion  of  the  gentle  child, 
and,  at  ten  years  of  age,  she  was  received  into  the 
church.  Then  Aunt  Lizzie  felt  great  solicitude 
that  she  should  grow  up  a  true  and  faithful  Christian, 
and  strove  in  her  visits  to  train  her  to  a  life  of  use- 
fulness.    It  proved,  however,  that  she  was  prepar- 


JN'THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL.  159 

ing  the  child  for  a  life  of  glory  in  the  kingdom  of 
God.  One  winter  day,  a  mischievous  boy  throwing 
snowballs,  struck  Ida  a  severe  blow  with  one.  The 
bruise  developed  into  an  abscess,  and  she  fell  into 
consumption.  For  several  years  she  lived  a  life  of 
patient  suffering. 

Unable  longer  to  attend  the  girl's  meeting,  she 
never  forgot  it,  but  sent  her  "promise  "  every  week 
by  her  little  brother.  A  few  days  before  she  died, 
she  chose  that  glorious  passage:  "Beloved,  now  are 
we  the  sons  of  God,  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear 
what  we  shall  be;  but  we  know  that  when  He  shall 
appear,  we  shall  be  like  Him ;  for  we  shall  see  Him 
as  He  is."  Aunt  Lizzie's  visits  were  now  more  than 
ever  welcome;  many  were  the  little  delicacies  that 
she  brought  to  tempt  the  failing  appetite,  many  the 
loving  words  with  which  she  soothed  the  pain  and 
weariness  of  the  patient  sufferer.  The  whole  Sun- 
day-school became  full  of  sympathy;  classes  of  girls 
often  met  with  the  superintendent  at  Ida's  house 
on  Sunday  afternoon  for  little  meetings  of  praise 
and  prayer.  The  day  she  died,  Aunt  Lizzie  sat  by 
her  bedside  all  the  afternoon  and  sang  softly  her 
favorite  hymns  to  the  serene  and  happy  Christian. 
Surely,  earth  has  no  greater  joy  than  that  of  minis- 
tering to  Christ's  little  ones;  heaven  can  have  no 
higher  reward  than  to  hear  the  voice  of  Jesus  say- 
ing, "Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  unto  the  least  of  these, 
ve  did  it  unto  me." 


160       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

For  many  months  Aunt  Lizzie  made  her  home 
with  a  widowed  lady,  whose  only  child  was  a  great 
sufferer.  The  poor  boy  became  greatly  attached  to 
her  and  she  took  him  into  her  heart  as  her  own  son. 
Through  the  long  afternoon  he  waited  impatiently 
for  her  return  from  her  round  of  visits.  No  sooner 
had  she  entered  the  door  than  he  would  exclaim, 
"  There  is  Aunt  Lizzie,  ask  her  to  come  to  me." 
However  weary  she  might  be,  she  could  never  re- 
fuse to  sing  for  him.  God  has  bestowed  on  her  the 
gift  of  song;  her  voice  has  always  had  the  power  of 
soothing  pain,  and  quieting  racked  nerves.  Often 
through  the  long  winter  evenings  she  sat  and  sang 
one  hymn  after  another  till  far  into  the  night; 
Dickey  never  satisfied,  always  begging  for  one  more. 
His  favorite  of  them  all  was,  "Come  to  Jesus  just 
now."  Over  and  over  she  sang  it,  and  one  day  he 
cheered  her  heart  by  saying  softly,  when  she  had 
finished, "  That's  it,  Aunt  Lizzie,  that's  the  plan  of 
salvation;    I  do  come,  I  do  trust  in  Jesus." 

Very  early  one  Sabbath  morning,  he  felt  that  he 
was  dying,  and  sent  for  Aunt  Lizzie  to  come  to  his 
room.  She  sat  by  him  all  day,  while  his  mother,  ex- 
hausted by  many  sleepless  nights,  lay  on  the  sofa. 
"When  the  bell  rang  for  Sunday-school,  he  lifted  his 
head  quickly,  "  Hear  the  bell,"  he  said,  "  are  you 
not  going?"  "  No,  my  son,"  answered  Aunt  Lizzie, 
"  I   am   going   to   stay   with  you    to-day."      He 


IN  THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL.  161 

breathed  a  Bigh  of  satisfaction  and  said,  "  It  is  my 
last  Sabbath."  At  intervals  through  the  long  day, 
she  sang  to  him  his  favorite  hymns,  and  helped  his 
mother  in  the  last  ministrations  of  love.  At  sun- 
down, as  Aunt  Lizzie  sat  by  him  alone,  he  said  sud- 
denly, "Tell  my  mother  that  I  want  her,"  and  in  a 
few  minutes  the  two  women  who  loved  him  best, 
resigned  him  with  tears  into  the  loving  hands  of  his 
Savior. 

For  some  years  the  Second  Church  maintained 
several  mission-schools,  most  of  which  have  since 
been  set  off  as  churches.  Not  content  with  attend- 
ing two  services,  and  the  morning  home-school,  Aunt 
Lizzie,  at  that  time,  frequently  spent  her  Sunday 
afternoons  in  visiting  these  mission-schools.  She 
makes  many  entries  in  her  journal  of  such  visits, 
when  she  sang  for  the  children  or  made  little 
speeches  to  them,  sometimes  putting  questions  on 
the  blackboard  for  them  to  answer.  Their  festivals 
too  were  never  neglected.  It  must  always  be  under- 
stood that  Aunt  Lizzie  acts  as  almoner  for  the  grand 
church  which  she  represents.  What  a  depth  of  be- 
nevolence is  shown  by  the  following  entry  of  a  visit 
to  a  school  eight  miles  distant,  across  the  city,  from 
the  parent  church.  "  Went  out  to  the  Stock  Yards' 
Mission  to  attend  their  festival.  Carried  out  a  bar- 
rel of  apples,  seven  baskets  of  peaches,  a  case  of 
choice  grapes,  five  pounds  of  candy,  half  a  bushel 
14 


162       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

of  biscuits  and  butter,  twenty -five  loaves  of  cake. 
Had  a  charming  time.  The  children  all  had  their 
stomachs,  hands,  and  pockets  filled;  many  packages 
sent  to  the  widowed  mothers  and  the  poor  families. 
On  my  way  home,  carried  a  large  basket  of  luxuries 
to  a  widow,  and  another  to  an  invalid." 

Nor  is  her  interest  confined  to  the  schools  con- 
nected with  her  own  church.  At  all  Sunday-school 
conventions  held  in  the  vicinity  of  Chicago,  and 
most  of  those  in  the  State,  Aunt  Lizzie  is  to  be 
found,  an  honored  gnest,  and  a  stirring  speaker. 

When  she  first  came  to  Chicago,  Aunt  Lizzie 
began  a  diary,  which  she  has  kept  ever  since.  It 
was  commenced  at  the  request  of  her  beloved  mother, 
who  was  anxious  to  know  more  of  her  daughter's 
labors  than  could  be  told  in  an  occasional  letter. 
Anv  one  reading  these  volumes  could  not  fail  to  be 
impressed  with  the  wisdom  and  freshness  of  many 
of  her  observations,  jotted  down  often  at  midnight, 
in  great  haste  and  weariness.  Some  of  these  char- 
acteristic notes  may  prove  profitable  to  Sunday- 
school  workers,  coming  as  they  do  from  a  veteran  in 
the  field,  whose  opportunities  for  studying  the  sub- 
ject have  been  surpassed  by  but  few. 

"It  is  not  by  a  few  great  and  brilliant  efforts  that  Christ's 
work  is  to  be  clone,  but  by  those  influences,  indirect  as  well  as 
positive,  which,  distil  from  a  life.  Patient,  earnest,  Christian 
labor  never  fails.  Its  results  may  be  unrecognized  by  the  world, 
but  they  are  not  unseen  nor  unblest  by  Christ  himself,  for  whose 
dear  sake  it  has  been  wrought. 


IN  THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL.  163 

"Why  not  look  for  success?  I  have  long  since  learned  that 
it  is  not  great  talents  God  blesses  so  much  as  great  likeness  to 
Jesus.  A  true  Christian  man  or  woman  is  a  strong  weapon  in 
the  hand  of  God.  He  wants  little  helpers  as  well  as  preachers 
in  His  church.  He  has  called  me  to  this  quiet  work,  and  I  take 
a  world  of  comfort  in  knowing  that  God  chose  me  for  His  child 
when  He  foresaw  just  what  a  child  I  would  be.  He  was  ac- 
quainted with  all  my  faults,  my  history,  my  circumstances. 
He  does  not  promise  to  release  us  from  our  unfortunate,  natural 
peculiarities;  though  in  the  greatness  of  his  giving.  He  often 
tenders  wonderful  relief.  He  promises  peace  with  God  in  spite 
of  self  and  sin,  and  the  tempter's  power  of  evil. 

" "  When  I  can  expect  help  from  no  other,  I  can  expect  it  from 
God.  God  has  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  the  world  and  the 
weak  things  of  the  world  to  accomplish  His  work.  I  never 
realized  this  fully  till  I  got  well  inside  the  vineyard  myself. 
Some  I  found  with  great  intellectual  qualifications,  and  others 
with  very  little  of  this  world's  Learning,  yet  they  were  alike 
men  of  great  power.  Those  who  brought  great  learning  into 
the  vineyard  with  them,  I  noticed  set  no  value  at  all  upon  it, 
except  so  far  as  it  furthers  their  work  for  Christ,  being  deter- 
mined to  know  nothing  among  the  people,  save  Jesus  Christ 
and  Him  crucified.  And  truly  one  who  knows  Jesus  Christ  and 
the  power  of  His  resurrection,  and  the  fellowship  of  His  suffer- 
ing, has  little  else  to  learn  to  fit  him  for  vineyard  work.  Just 
in  proportion  as  I  know  Christ,  I  know  myself.  When  I 
learn  this,  that  I  am  weak,  and  know  nothing,  and  that  Christ 
is  everything,  I  am  able  to  do  what  Christ  bids  me  to  do.  God 
is  my  helper.  What  a  comfort  to  think  that  it  is  this  Almighty 
Helper,  who  appoints  to  each  one  his  labor.  He  knows  just 
how  much  I  can  do,  and  He  knows  just  how  much  He  will  have 
to  help  me,  and  He  will  never  fail  to  do  it. 

"  There  is  a  faith  in  some  which  tends  to  idleness,  trusts  God 
to  do  all,  and  thus  leaves  the  soul  stupid  and  powerless.  In 
others  there  is  a  faith  that  worries  and  works,  an  1  hopes  that 


164:      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

God  will  help.  But,  oh,  there  is  a  truer,  better  faith  that 
works  mightily,  because  it  loves  fervently;  that  never  worries 
because  it  never  fears.  Love  will,  must  work,  and  cannot  be 
idle.  It  comes  from  God,  and  breathes  itself  out  in  prayer, 
praises  and  service,  like  springs  that  cannot  be  suppressed. 
It  is  spontaneous  and  grows  by  use.  Faith  that  works  by  love 
is  a  tonic  to  the  soul,  strengthening  it  for  bold  endeavor, 
making  it  like  God  in  active  doings,  in  every  service  that  can 
assuage  a  grief,  relieve  a  pain,  or  impart  a  joy." 

"  A  true  Christian  living  in  the  world  is  like  a  ship  sailing 
on  the  ocean.  It  is  not  the  ship  being  in  the  water  that  will 
sink  it,  but  the  water  getting  into  the  ship.  So  in  like  man- 
ner the  Christian  is  not  ruined  by  living  in  the  world,  which 
he  must  needs  do  while  he  remains  in  the  body,  but  by  the 
world  living  in  him.1' 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

A  UNT  LIZZIE'S  GIRLS'  MEETING. 

A  yeak  before  Aunt  Lizzie  came  to  the  Second 
Church,  the  pastor  had  established  a  prayer-meeting 
for  girls  and  placed  it  under  the  efficient  leadership 
of  Miss  Ellen  M.  Sprague.  It  was  held  on  Friday 
afternoons,  in  order  to  interfere  as  little  as  possible 
with  the  studies  of  school-girls,  and  immediately 
took  strong  root  and  began  to  flourish.  When  Aunt 
Lizzie  began  her  work  for  the  Sunday-school,  this 
meeting  was  handed  over  to  her  as  coming  within 
her  province.  She  found  it  with  an  attendance  of 
from  ten  to  twenty.  As  }Tears  went  on,  this  number 
gradually  increased  until  at  times  the  average  attend- 
ance has  been  from  fifty  to  sixty.  Aunt  Lizzie 
was  no  novice  in  instructing  young  girls  in  the 
gospel.  As  far  back  as  184C,  she  had  held  a  girls' 
meeting  of  three,  when  her  little  neighbors  on  Rock 
River,  came  to  spend  Sunday  afternoons  with  her. 
In  Brimfield,  also,  as  we  have  before  stated,  she  used 
her  Sunday-school  class  as  the  nucleus  of  a  gathering 
for  praise  and  prayer.  Always  delighting  in  cliil- 
(165) 


166       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

dren,  she  has  been  through  life  in  full  sympathy 
with  young  girls,  and  possesses  great  power  of  lead- 
ing them. 

The  design  and  scope  of  her  meeting  in  Chicago 
are  best  set  forth  in  her  own  words,  taken  from  one 
of  her  annual  addresses. 

'•The  object  of  the  girls'  meeting  is  purely  religious.  TVe 
come  together  to  read  the  Word  of  God,  and  repeat  His  prom- 
ises; then  in  prayer  and  supplication  we  ask  our  Heavenly  Fath- 
er to  bless  His  own  truth  to  the  salvation  of  each.  It  is  here  I 
urge  upon  you  your  need  of  a  Savior,  seeking  with  all  my  heart 
to  teach  you  what  is  necessary  in  order  to  tecome  a  Christian. 
First,  you  must  see  and  feel  that  you  are  a  sinner,  then  trust 
Christ  as  your  Savior.  First  repentance,  then  obedience.  Here, 
too,  you  leam  the  truthful  lesson  that  there  is  no  joy,  no  prog- 
ress in  a  Christian  life,  unless  that  life,  without  reserve,  be  given 
to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

"  Your  attendance  on  our  Friday  afternoon  meeting  has 
made  it  my  grand  rallying  point  in  this  dear  church,  where  F 
can  meet  you,  and  we  can  sit  down  together  at  the  Savior's 
feet,  each  repeating  a  Scripture  text,  and  giving  a  recital  of  our 
week's  experience." 

'We  have  been  requested  to  give  the  exact  man- 
ner in  which  this  meeting,  so  fruitful  of  good,  is 
conducted.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  considered  one 
of  the  regular  appointments  of  the  church,  and  is 
given  out  every  Sunday  morning  with  the  other 
notices  for  the  week.  Then  Aunt  Lizzie  and  the 
working  members  form,  together,  a  committee  on 
invitation.  They  all  have  the  good  of  the  meeting 
so  much  at  heart  that  they  voluntarily  work  for  it, 


AUNT  LIZZIE'S  GIRLS'  MEETING.  167 

bringing  in  their  school-mates  and  friends.  On 
Friday  afternoon  thejT  meet  at  four  o'clock,  many 
coming  directly  from  the  public-school,  with  books 
and  slates.  No  change  of  dress  is  considered  neces- 
sary. Small  as  this  fact  may  appear,  it  is  one  of 
considerable  consequence.  It  is  of  great  impor- 
tance for  the  success  of  such  a  meeting,  that  as  little 
distinction  as  possible  should  be  made  between  rich 
and  poor,  that  all  may  feel  that  they  are  at  home. 

Aunt  Lizzie  herself  always  takes  charge  of  the 
exercises,  though  occasionally  she  calls  upon  some 
visitor  to  pray.  The  girls  know  that  no  matter 
what  the  weather  may  be,  she  will  be  there  to  meet 
them,  and  are  encouraged  by  her  faithfulness  to 
be  faithful  themselves.  Singing  takes  up  consid- 
erable time,  then  reading  of  the  Bible,  with  running 
comments  suited  to  their  age,  and  prayer.  After- 
wards, each  attendant,  beginning  with  the  leader, 
repeats  a  text  of  Scripture.  So  generally  are  the 
promises  chosen,  that  the  girls  have  come  to  call 
texts  repeated  there  their  promises.  In  case  of  ab- 
sence, Aunt  Lizzie  encourages  them  to  copy  out 
some  passage  from  the  Bible  and  send  it  to  be  read 
for  them. 

One  element  of  success  is  that  the  girls  are  taught 
to  consider  the  meeting  their  own.  They  pray, 
talk,  and  select  hymns  to  sing.  Older  visitors  are 
not   expected   to  take  time  which  belongs  to  the 


168       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

regular  attendants,  though  often  called  upon  to 
address  the  meeting.  Aunt  Lizzie  encourages  the 
girls  to  tell  their  difficulties  in  leading  a  Christian 
life,  and  advises,  counsels,  or  reproves,  as  the  case 
may  be. 

Different  subjects  or  objects  for  prayer  are  pre- 
sented at  each  meeting  by  the  girls  themselves. 
About  two  thousand  different  members  have  been 
enrolled  during  the  twelve  years.  Owing  to  the 
fluctuating  life  of  a  city  there  are  only  a  few  who 
have  attended  for  a  series  of  years,  but  the  number 
is  well  kept  up,  and  those  who  leave  the  city  do  not 
forget  the  blessed  place  of  prayer.  At  the  last  an- 
nual meeting  thirteen  letters  were  read  from  absent 
members,  residing  in  as  many  different  States. 

Once  a  month  there  is  a  meeting  of  the  "  Band 
of  Helpers."  This  is  a  "  Mission  Band,"  whose  ob- 
ject is  to  aid  the  "  Woman's  Baptist  Foreign  Mis- 
sionary Society."  It  was  formed  during  the  summer 
of  1874,  and  was  the  first  in  the  Chicago  Association. 
To  this  meeting  are  brought  contributions  for 
sending  the  gospel  to  the  heathen.  Every  year  one 
of  their  number,  chosen  by  themselves,  is  made  a 
life-member  of  the  Woman's  Society,  by  the  pay- 
ment of  twenty-five  dollars.  Two  or  three  years 
ago  they  pledged  themselves  to  pay  forty  dollars  a 
year  to  educate  a  Burinan  girl,  in  Miss  Higby's 
school   in    Maul  main.     This    amount    they   could 


AUNT  LIZZIE'S  GIRLS'  MEETING.  169 

hardly  expect  to  give  themselves,  but  they  raise  it 
by  canvassing  among  friends. 

The  flower-mission  which  Aunt  Lizzie  started  in 
the  Sunday-school  has  of  late  years  been  in  a  great 
measure  transferred  to  her  girls'  meeting.  Under 
her  direction  also  there  is  much  missionary  work 
done.  A  few  months  ago  her  Band  of  Helpers  de- 
termined to  send  to  Miss  Hi^bv  a  box  of  articles 
for  her  own  use  and  that  of  the  orphan  girls  of  her 
school.  With  the  assistance  of  the  ladies  of  the 
church,  they  made  a  valuable  donation,  almost  a 
quarter  of  which  they  gave  themselves.  They  also 
visit  sick  members  of  the"  Band,  often  going  on 
Sunday  afternoons  to  sing  and  pray  with  those  con- 
fined to  the  house. 

The  short  and  simple  stories  of  one  or  two  of  Aunt 
Lizzie's  girls  cannot  fail  to  be  of  interest.  The 
history 'of  these  girls  was  chosen  because  their  life 
on  earth  is  finished,  so  that  there  can  be  no  possible 
objection  to  the  recital. 

We  have  already  mentioned  the  fact  that  the 
u  Band  of  Helpers  "  support  a  native  girl  in  Miss 
Higby's  school  in  Maulmain.  She  has  been  named 
by  them  Hattie  Gurney,  in  memory  of  a  member  of 
the  Band,  who  died  a  few  months  before  they  took 
Sang  See  under  their  care.  It  was  fitting  that  the 
girls  should  thus  honor  their  departed  friend,  for 
she  seems  to  have  been  one  of  those  rare  Christians 
15 


170      TEE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

in  whom  the  loveliness  of  the  heavenly  life  strongly 
manifests  itself  even  here  on  earth.  She  and  her 
sister  attended  the  girl's  meeting  from  the  time  of 
its  inception,  and  were  both  converted  there.  Hattie 
had  a  character  whose  great  sincerity  shone  forth 
in  her  daily  life.  She  not  only  talked  to  her  friends 
and  companions  about  Christ,  and  prayed  fervently, 
but  she  also  lived  the  gospel  before  them,  exem- 
plifying it  with  such  sweetness,  and  humility,  that 
those  who  saw  her  knew  that  she  had  been  with 
J  esus.  Step  by  step  the  Father  led  her  heavenward, 
till  she  reached  the  pearly  gate,  and  quietly  stepping 
over  the  golden  threshold,  was  at  home. 

As  Aunt  Lizzie  stood  looking  for  the  last  time 
on  the  sweet  face,  so  placid  in  its  rest,  her  heart  was 
filled  with  inexpressible  joy  and  peace,  and  from 
her  inmost  soul  she  thanked  God  for  the  years  of 
sacred  fellowship  and  communion  which  she  had 
enjoyed  with  the  departed  one.  She  writes:  "I 
shall  ever  love  to  dwell  upon  her  memory,  saying, 
'Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall  see 
God.'  My  soul  has  never  grieved  over  any  act  of 
hers,  for  she  never  did  anything  to  dishonor  God 
or  disgrace  His  church." 

One  day  Aunt  Lizzie  noticed  a  stranger  in  her 
meeting,  and,  according  to  her  custom,  went  imme- 
diately at  the  close  of  the  services  and  said,  "  My 
dear  girl,  we  are  so  glad  to  see  you  here,"  and    in- 


AUNT  LIZZIES  GIRLS'  MELTING.  171 

vited  her  to  the  Sunday-school.  She  learned  by  de- 
grees Nellie's  sad  history.  She  was  a  stranger  in 
the  city.  Her  mother  was  dead,  her  father  became 
dissipated,  and  with  her  little  brother  she  had  come 
to  Chicago  to  live  with  their  aunt.  Aunt  Lizzie  at 
once  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  whole  family, 
and  when,  soon  after,  the  father  followed  his  chil- 
dren, she  united  her  efforts  with  theirs  to  induce  him 
to  reform,  but  with  only  partial  success. 

About  a  year  from  the  time  Aunt  Lizzie  first 
met  her,  Xellie  came  and  wished  to  secure  her  co- 
operation in  a  plan  which  she  had  formed.  She 
said  that  her  aunt  was  a  feeble  woman,  that  her  un- 
cle was  poor,  and  that  she  did  not  want  to  be  a  bur- 
den to  them.  She  therefore  desired  to  learn  a  trade, 
and  would  like  best  to  be  a  dress-maker.  Aunt 
Lizzie's  first  question  was,  "  Have  you  consulted 
your  aunt?1'  "  Xo,"  said  Xellie;  "that  is  just  what 
I  came  to  see  you  about.  I  have  asked  her  to  in- 
vite you  to  tea  to-morrow  eveuing,  and  when  I  in- 
troduce the  subject,  I  want  you  to  help  me  persuade 
her  to  let  me  do  as  I  wdsh  about  it."  Of  course 
Aunt  Lizzie  consented,  and  by  their  united  plead- 
ing, the  old  lady  was  induced  to  lay  aside  her  pride 
and  give  her  consent  to  the  arrangement.  Aunt 
Lizzie  then  secured  Xellie  an  excellent  place. 

Soon  after  this  the  little  brother  died,  and  in  his 
sorrow,  the  father  turned  for  comfort  to  his  drink- 


172       THE  STORY  OF  AUXT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

ing  habits,  instead  of  to  God.  Whenever  lie  be- 
came sober,  he  was  intensely  mortified  at  his  own 
behavior;  and  finally,  to  escape  from  the  entreat- 
ies of  his  daughter,  he  went  to  St.  Louis,  where  he 
died  in  a  fit  of  delirium  tremens.  Two  years  after, 
her  uncle  died,  leaving  his  wife  to  Nellie,  who  sup- 
ported and  tenderly  cared  for  her,  until  she,  too, 
dying,  left  the  poor  girl  all  alone  in  the  world. 

Then  it  was  that  she  turned  with  increased  love 
to  Aunt  Lizzie,  and  clung  to  her  as  if  she  had  been 
her  own  mother.  For  five  years  this  kind  friend 
advised  and  comforted  her.  One  evening  return- 
ing from  the  day's  round  of  visits  she  heard  that 
Nellie  was  very  ill.  She  had  come  home  from  her 
work  the  night  before  through  the  falling  snow, 
her  clothes  wet  to  her  knees;  the  next  morning  she 
awoke  covered  with  measles,  in  a  room  without  a 
fire.  For  seven  days  Aunt  Lizzie  did  everything 
she  could  devise  for  her,  but  on  one  of  the  stormiest 
nights  in  March,  was  called  to  see  her  die.  As  she 
came  into  the  room,  Nellie  called  feebly  to  her, 
"  Come  here,  Aunt  Lizzie,  let  me  kiss  you  once 
more,  to  express  my  love  and  gratitude  to  you." 
Taking  the  dear  face  of  her  only  earthly  friend  be- 
tween her  icy  hands,  she  kissed  it  again  and,  again 
until  her  lips  stiffened  in  death. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

A  UXT  LIZZIE  AMONG  THE  SICK. 

In  the  last  twelve  years,  Aunt  Lizzie  has  made  at 
least  twelve  thousand  visits  to  the  sick.  This  num- 
ber is  taken  from  actual  entries  in  her  diaries. 
These  visits  are  not  calls  of  condolence  only,  hut  in 
many  cases  she  takes  the  place  of  nurse  and  doctor, 
as  well  as  friend.  Her  life  in  the  hospitals  fitted 
her  admirably  for  such  work,  as  she  learned  at  that 
time  to  dress  wounds  and  prescribe  for  all  ordinary 
diseases.  She  was  obliged  also  to  lay  aside  all  fas- 
tidiousness in  regard  to  the  cleanliness  of  her  patient 
or  his  surroundings,  and  by  this  drill  has  been  ena- 
bled to  do  repulsive  work  whenever  in  her  missionary 
labors,  it  has  been  demanded.  Her  visitations  have 
not  been  confined  by  any  means  to  the  sick  of  her 
own  congregation,  but  for  years  she  has  been  sent 
for  by  strangers  in  different  parts  of  the  city  to  come 
and  pray  with  them.  Thus  her  work  among  the 
sick  is  very  extensive. 

Often  when  some  member  of  a  destitute  family 
dies,  and  Aunt  Lizzie  mentions  the  fact,  those  who 
(173) 


174      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

hear  the  announcement,  little  know  the  amount  of 
labor  which  is  implied.  In  many  cases  she  be- 
gins by  laying  out  the  dead,  providing  all  the  gar- 
ments, of  which  she  has  a  store  laid  by,  the  contri- 
butions of  friends.  She  next  goes  for  the  under- 
taker, and  provides  for  the  burial  of  the  poor  body, 
sees  that  a  notice  of  the  funeral  service  is  given  out, 
and  procures  singers  for  the  occasion.  Afterwards 
she  inquires  into  the  wants  of  the  family  and  meets 
them,  even  to  a  little  decent  mourning,  and  calls 
in  the  neighbors  to  the  funeral.  How  many  steps 
all  this  necessitates,  can  only  be  known  to  those 
who  have  done  like  duties. 

It  is  not  the  poor  only,  who  in  sickness  call  upon 
Aunt  Lizzie.  Her  friends  all  know  her  power  of 
comfort  and  sympathy,  and  send  for  her  to  come 
and  help  them  in  various  ways.  A  sick  boy,  just 
returned  from  Colorado,  unbenefited,  said  one  day 
to  his  mother,  "Do  send  for  Aunt  Lizzie;  I  have 
eaten  nothing  in  so  long,  that  relishes  at  all;  I  am 
sure  she  could  prescribe  something."  When  she 
came  he  told  her  his  desire.  "  Certainly  my  dear 
boy,  "  said  she,  "  I  will  go  right  home  and  prepare 
your  dinner  myself;  just  you  wait  a  few  minutes." 
In  a  very  short  time  she  returned.  She  had  found 
that  chicken  soup  was  over  the  fire,  had  filled  a 
pretty  china  cup,  covered  it,  and  brought  it  over 
immediately.     As   she  approached  the  house  she 


AMONG  THE  SICK.  175 

saw  the  sick  boy  at  the  window,  following  her  wist- 
fully with  his  eyes,  and  when  she  gave  him  the 
soup,  he  drank  every  drop.  "  Ah,  mother,"  said 
he,  "it  takes  Aunt  Lizzie  to  find  out  what  I 
want." 

In  many  cases  Aunt  Lizzie's  care  for  a  sick  per- 
son extends  overyears,  and  her  anxiety  for  the  spir- 
itual welfare  of  the  sufferer,  is  even  greater  than 
her  sympathy  on  account  of  his  bodily  pain.  If 
her  friend  is  already  a  Christian,  she  delights  to 
read  the  comforting  portions  of  Scripture,  and  talk 
of  the  promises;  but  if  the  soul  is  far  from  God,  her 
desire  for  its  salvation  knows  no  bounds. 

Some  years  ago  she  became  acquainted  with  a 
familv  that  had  no  interest  whatever  in  religion. 
She  succeeded  in  securing  the  two  little  girls  for  her 
Sunday-school,  and  continued  for  years  to  visit  them 
frequently.  She  had  a  great  desire  for  the  conversion 
of  the  mother,  but  though  she  often  spoke  to  her  of 
the  needs  of  her  soul,  could  receive  no  encourage- 
ment,  that  she  would  even  think  of  the  matter. 
One  day  in  particular  Aunt  Lizzie  called  and  found 
her  friend  so  cold  and  hard,  that  her  soi.l  was  sur- 
charged with  sorrow.  As  she  left  the  house,  she 
feared  that  she  was  not  doing  what  the  Lord  wanted 
in  regard  to  saving  that  family,  and  was  so  full  of 
trouble,  that  passing  along  by  a  vacant  lot,  she  turned 
her  face  to  the  fence  and  cried  to  God  fur  lielD. 


176      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

After  four  years,  during  which  time^  Aunt  Lizzie 
had  become  very  intimate  with  the  family,  signs  of 
consumption  manifested  themselves  in  the  mother, 
and  for  two  years  she  was  a  confirmed  invalid.  All 
this  time  Aunt  Lizzie  most  earnestly  sought  God 
on  her  behalf,  but  received  no  satisfactory  evidence 
of  her  repentance. 

One  day  she  spoke  to  the  sick  woman  of  the  con- 
version of  a  friend;  told  how  she  said  that  the  Holy 
Spirit  had  convinced  her  of  her  sin,  and  led  her  to 
Christ. 

"  "Well,"  replied  the  invalid,  "  she  needed  a 
change,  I  am  sure." 

"Not  more  than  you  and  I,"  said  Aunt  Lizzie; 
"  the  same  Holy  Spirit  will  work  in  us,  if  we  desire 
it," 

"  Do  you  think,"  asked  the  sick  woman,  "  that  I 
need  the  same  forgiveness?" 

"  Perhaps  you  need  more,"  was  the  answer:  "  your 
privileges  have  been  greater,  and  so  are  your  re- 
sponsibilities." 

"But  still,"  persisted  her  friend,  "is  it  not 
strange  that  there  is  only  one  way  of  salvation,  for 
both  wicked  and  good?" 

"There  are  none  good,"  said  Aunt  Lizzie;  "we 
are  ail  sinners,  and  it  is  wonderful  to  me  that  Christ 
was  willing  to  suffer  and  die  that  sinners  might  be 
forgiven." 


AMONG  THE  SICK 


The  sick  woman  turned  her  face  to  the  wall,  and 
refused  to  continue  the  conversation,  and  Aunt 
Lizzie,  as  often  before,  went  away  with  a  sorrowful 
heart — for  it  seemed  to  her  that  here  was  one  of 
those  who  are  unwilling  to  be  saved. 

In  October,  Aunt  Lizzie  was  absent  from  the  city 
for  a  few  days.  Her  sick  friend,  missing  her  visits, 
became  very  anxious  for  her  return.  ]S"ow  that  she 
could  no  longer  argue  and  object,  she  began  in  si- 
lence to  think  ;  and  the  longer  she  meditated,  the 
more  disturbed  she  became.  Day  after  day  she  sent 
to  see  if  Aunt  Lizzie  had  come  home;  she  felt  that 
she  could  not  die,  without  hearing  once  more  the 
gospel  which  she  had  so  often  rejected. 

The  first  word  Aunt  Lizzie  received  on  her  return, 
in  a  cold,  raw,  Xovember  rain,  was  the  message  to 
repair  at  once  to  her  dying  friend,  who  threw  her 
emaciated  arms  around  her  neck,  and  cried,"  I  thank 
God  that  I  am  allowed  to  see  you  face  to  face  once 
more.  You  little  dream  what  you  have  done  for  me 
in  your  many  visits.  No  prayer  uttered  has  failed 
to  leave  its  impress;  no  woi'd  expressed  has  failed 
to  have  its  desired  effect."  In  great  bitterness  of 
soul  she  cried,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ? 
How  did  you  come  to  Jesus?"  Aunt  Lizzie  told 
her  that  she  did  only  what  Jesus  bade  her;  the 
Bible  said,  "Believe  on  the  Lord   Jesus  Christ  and 


178       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

thou  shalt  be  saved ;"  that  she  took  Christ  at  His  word 
and  besought  him  to  heal  her,  and  he  heard  her 
prayer.  She  then  read  the  excellent  little  tract, 
"  It  is  all  in  believing,"  and  sang,  "  There  is  a  foun- 
tain filled  with  blood."  But  it  was  when  Aunt 
Lizzie  told  her  of  the  leper's  prayer,  "Lord,  if  thou 
wilt,  thou  canst  make  me  clean,"  and  the  Savior's 
precious  answer,  that  the  dying  woman  grasped  the 
truth,  and  cried,  u  Oh,  Aunt  Lizzie,  pray  with  me, 
help  me  to  pray;"  and  kneeling  by  the  bed  the  faith- 
ful Christian  pleaded  for  the  sin-tossed  soul,  that  the 
Holy  Spirit  would  finish  His  blessed  work  and  reveal 
Christ  to  the  darkened  eyes'.  When  she  ended,  the 
sick  woman  prayed  for  herself,  and  cried,  "  Lord  I 
believe,  help  thou  my  unbelief." 

For  nearly  two  weeks  Aunt  Lizzie  visited  her 
daily,  finding  her  always  calm  and  peaceful.  Her 
great  bitterness  of  soul  was  exchanged  for  a  confid- 
ing trust  in  the  Lord  Jesus.  One  morning  her 
husband  came  and  said  that  she  wished  Aunt  Liz- 
zie to  spend  the  last  day  with  her.  She  seemed  no 
worse  than  before,  but  her  expressed  wish  came 
from  the  strange,  intuitive  knowledge,  often  possess- 
ed by  the  sick,  of  approaching  death,  for  the  next 
morning,  at  nine  o'clock,  she  departed.  As  her 
faithful  friend  stood  and  saw  her  pass  over  Jordan, 
she  could  but  rejoice  with  her. 

The  following  year  one  of  the  daughters  died,  re- 


AMONG  THE  SICK.  179 

joicing  in  Christ,  saying,  "  Aunt  Lizzie's  visits,  with 
my  mother's  confirmation  of  the  truth  of  what  she 
taught,  have  brought  me  to  Christ." 

Visiting  the  sick  is  emphatically  evangelistic 
work.  There  are  many  who,  when  strong  and  well5 
avoid  all  reference  to  religion,  but  when  stretched 
on  a  bed  of  pain,  are  eager  to  see  those  whom  they 
believe  to  be  the  friends  of  God.  Hence  much  of 
Aunt  Lizzie's  missionary  work  is  done  by  the  sick 
bed. 

The  two  eldest  children,  in  a  family  of  Aunt 
Lizzie's  acquaintance,  became  Christians  and  were 
brought  into  the  church.  The  father  was  not  a  be- 
liever in  the  Lord  Jesus,  but  a  man  of  a  very  lovely 
natural  disposition.  When  the  children  were  con- 
verted, Aunt  Lizzie  became  verv  desirous  of  leading 
him  to  Christ,  and  often  asked  God  to  show  her 
how  she  might  teach  him  the  love  of  Jesus.  One 
day,  while  at  tea  in  his  house,  he  thanked  her  for 
her  kindness  to  his  children  and  her  care  of  their 
souls.  "With  tears,  she  answered,  "My  dear  sir, 
what  can  I  say  or  do  to  induce  you  also  to  come  to 
the  Savior?"  But  as  yet  he  had  no  desire  to  heed 
her  words. 

The  next  March,  one  stormy  night,  she  was  sent 
for  to  visit  this  man,  who  supposed  himself  to  be  in 
a  dying  condition.  Wrapping  herself  in  her  water- 
proof cloak,  she  rapidly  walked  the  eleven  blocks  to 


180      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

Ills  house,  and  found  him  in  great  anguish  of  soul. 
His  first  words  were,  "  Aunt  Lizzie,  pray,  oh  pray, 
oh  pray."  With  her  habit,  learned  in  the  army,  of 
addressing  her  friends  by  their  first  names,  she  an- 
swered at  once,  "  Samuel,  I  will  read  you  a  prayer, 
I  will  sing  you  a  prayer,  and  I  will  pray,  and  I 
want  you  to  pray."  She  read  the  fifty-first  Psalm; 
he  followed  word  by  word,  and  as  she  ended,  cried, 
"  That  is  me,  that  is  my  prayer,  my  prayer,  O  God!" 
Then  she  sang,  "  Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul,"  and  knelt 
down  to  pray.  It  is  Aunt  Lizzie's  conviction, 
based  on  the  experience  of  years,  that  God  does  hear 
prayer,  and  as  she  kneels  by  the  side  of  those  who 
ask  her  to  pray  for  them,  she  feels  that  she  takes 
right  hold  of  the  hand  of  her  heavenly  Father;  she 
prays  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible. 

At  daylight  she  left  the  sick  man  peaceful  and 
trusting  in  Christ.  That  sick-bed  repentance  is  not 
always  transient  and  spurious,  is  proved  in  this  in- 
stance, for,  contrary  to  his  expectations,  this  man 
recovered,  and  is  to-day  an  honor  to  his  Christian 
profession.     His  repentance  was  for  life. 

Aunt  Lizzie  also  carries  sympathy  and  consola- 
tion to  the  bereaved.  Not  only  does  she  point  the 
dying  to  the  Savior,  and  smooth  the  Christian's 
pathway  to  heaven,  but  when  the  strong  staff  is 
broken  and  the  beautiful  rod,  she  is  the  strength 
and  stay  of  the  stricken  household.     She  mingles 


AMONG  THE  SICK.  1S1 

her  prayers  and  tears  with  those  of  the  mourners, 
tells  them  of  the  glorious  resurrection  by-and-by, 
and  that  we  ought  to  rejoice  when  a  loved  one  de- 
parts to  be  with  Christ.  Her  diary  is  full  of  entries 
like  the  following: 

"  This  morning  I  accompanied  my  dear  friends  to 
Oakwoods  Cemetery,  where  the  body  of  their  moth- 
er, brought  on  from  Milwaukee  for  the  purpose,  was 
quietly  laid  away  for  its  final  rest.  I  sought  to 
comfort  them.  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the 
Lord.  O,  dreamless  slumber,  unbroken  calm,  pro- 
found and  holy;  in  you  these  earthly  griefs  which 
wound,  these  cares  that  fret,  these  passions  which 
rack  the  soul,  find  long  oblivion.  In  you  the  weary 
forget  their  weariness,  the  troubled  their  heart-ache. 
The  wan  hands  are  folded  across  the  still,  cold 
breast  in  everlasting  respite  from  toil,  the  motion- 
less, upturned  face  is  smoothed  forever  from  all 
traces  of  mortal  anguish.  "We  bless  God  for  thee, 
gentle  death;  thou  art  the  end  of  temptation,  con- 
flict, pain  and  humiliation,  and  the  beginning  of 
glory  and  immortality.  Thy  valleys  of  sleep  are 
bounded  by  the  golden  hilltops  of  heavenly  prom- 
ise, bathed  in  the  endless  dawn  of  heaven.  O, 
death,  thou  hast  no  sting  for  the  Christian,  and 
thou,  oh  grave,  no  victory  over  him." 

It  is  not  with  a  thoughtless  mind  that  Aunt  Lizzie 
walks  the  streets  on  her  errands  of  mercy.     With 


182      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

but  little  time  that  she  can  call  her  own,  she  finds 
it  difficult  to  have  stated  seasons  of  prayer,  but  she 
has  acquired  the  habit  of  talking  with  God  by  the 
way,  and  meditating  on  the  great  subjects  of  life, 
death,  and  immortality.  Ready  at  any  moment  as 
she  is,  to  pass  a  merry  word  with  those  whom  she 
may  meet,  or  to  break  into  a  hearty  laugh  over  a 
trifling  jest,  such  things  are  but  the  foam  on  the 
crest  of  the  wave  of  thought  which  rolls  on,  deep 
and  incessantly.  Cheerful  and  happy  she  almost 
always  is,  but  it  is  a  cheerfulness  that  is  the  result 
of  sanctified  sorrow  rather  than  an  evidence  of  free- 
dom from  care.  The  record  of  these  thoughts  gives 
a  deeper  insight  into  Aunt  Lizzie's  mind  and  soul 
than  any  attempted  analysis  could. 

"The  past  month  has  been  one  of  great  peace  to  my  soul.  I 
have  really  had  a  fullness  of  consolation  to  which  nothing  could 
be  added  by  mortal.  I  am  happy  anywhere,  but  most  at  home 
with  the  bereaved,  with  the  tempted  and  the  desponding.  The 
mother  weeping  for  her  children  and  refusing  to  be  comforted, 
the  old  man  grieving  for  his  lost  Joseph,  the  disciple  mourning 
for  his  absent  Lord,  the  doubter,  at  one  time  like  Thomas  ready 
to  die  for  Jesus,  at  another  time  ready  to  say,  '  except  I  see 
the  print  of  the  nails,  I  will  not  believe ' ;  such  sufferers  as  these 
are  my  constant  companions.  They  understand  me  and  I  un- 
derstand them." 

"  'Cast  thy  burden  on  the  Lord.'  For  two  days  this  text 
has  occurred  to  me  again  and  again,  like  the  refrain  of  a  sweet, 
deep  song.  '  Cast  thy  burden  on  the  Lord '  is  both  promise  and 
command.  'He  will  never  suffer  the  righteous  to  be  moved.' 
But,  Lord,  I  am  not  righteous,  I  love  thee,  but  1  do  continual- 
ly what  I  would  not. 


AMONG  THE  SICK.  183 

11 '  I  know  it  my  child,'  says  Jesus,  '  I  realize  all  your  sinful- 
ness, now  here  is  my  forgiveness;  trust  me  and  not  your  own 
heart;  I  gave  this  trouble  to  you  that  you  might  learn  out  of  the 
depths  to  cast  your  burden  on  my  strength.  You  are  full  of 
burdens,  I  know  it,— like  as  a  father  jpitieth,  I  pity  you,  and 
so  I  say,  cast  thy  burdens  every  one — sin,  shame,  weakness, 
loss — all  on  me. ' 

"  0  Lord,  loving  and  blessed  beyond  all  praise  of  mine,  here 
I  am.  Take  my  burdens  and  take  me,  too.  I  know,  for  thou 
hast  said  it,  that  whatever  I  give  thou  acceptest,  and  now, 
dear  Lord,  have  thine  own  way  with  me  and  mine.  There  is 
nothing  great  or  small  left  for  me  to  worry  about,  and  this  is 
the  Lord's  meaning  in  stirring  me  up  with  trouble  and  calming 
me  down  to  trust." 

"  Made  several  calls  this  afternoon.  "Was  grieved  to  learn 
from  so  many  that  they  do  not  pray.  It  is  through  the  open 
door  of  the  secret  place  of  prayer  that  all  riches  fall  from  heav- 
en into  contrite  and  believing  souls.  There  God  crowns  his 
children  who  prevail  with  him.  There  life  flows  down  a  heav- 
enly river  into  the  spiritual  being  of  the  worshiper." 

11  Sorrow  makes  a  silence  in  the  heart  through  which  God's 
voice  can  be  heard.  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  that  is  the 
mission  of  sorrow.' \ 


CHAPTER    X. 

AUNT  LIZZIE'S  LABORS  AMONG  THE  POOR. 

Although  it  was  as  Sunday-school  missionary 
that  Aunt  Lizzie  entered  the  Second  Church,  she 
only  worked  a  few  weeks  before  she  perceived  that 
a  society  for  clothing  the  poor  connected  with  the 
congregation  was  an  absolute  necessity.  Much  in- 
dividual benevolence  had  been  expended  by  the 
church,  but  as  yet  there  was  no  charitable  society 
among  the  ladies.  Aunt  Lizzie  found  unorganized 
liberality  insufficient  to  meet  the  pressing  wants 
which  she  saw  every  day. 

So,  on  the  13th  of  November,  1867,  she  spent  the 
entire  day  in  inviting  the  ladies  to  meet  on  the 
morrow  to  start  a  sewing  and  benevolent  society, 
that  she  might  have  wherewithal  to  clothe  the  poor. 
The  next  day  twenty-five  ladies  responded  to  the 
call,  and  organized  a  sewing-circle,  which  has  had  a 
vigorous  existence  ever  since  and  has  done  a  world 
of  good.  Aunt  Lizzie,  as  the  almoner  of  this  society, 
has  distributed  to  the  poor  the  garments  they  have 
made.  But  she  has  also  drawn  from  many  other 
(184) 


LABORS  AMONG  THE  POOR.  1S5 

sources.  The  poor-fund  of  the  church,  and  the 
benevolence  of  friends  both  in  the  city  and  in  dis- 
tant places  have  supplied  her  with  money.  Many 
donations  from  the  country  come  to  her,  of  fruit 
and  clothing.  Her  reports  contain  many  entries 
like  the  following:  "  My  annual  contribution  from 
an  old  friend  on  Eock  Eiver,  two  barrels  of  apples, 
and  two  of  potatoes;  cases  of  plums,  grapes  and 
bed-linen  from  a  lady  in  Tarry  town,  Xew  York; 
fifty  garments  from  Wisconsin;  wine  and  canned 
fruit  from  California."  Money  for  her  needs  comes 
to  her  from  many  States,  from  Massachusetts  to  the 
far  West,  her  soldier  boys  contributing  considera- 
ble of  it,  knowing  that  to  give  to  her  poor  will 
please  her  better  than  to  give  to  herself.  By  look- 
ing over  her  reports  we  find  that  in  ten  years  she 
made  nearly  forty  thousand  visits,  distributed  about 
five  thousand  dollars,  forty -five  thousand  garments, 
not  including  a  large  number  of  shoes.  Besides 
these  she  has  given  away  large  quantities  of  pro- 
visions of  all  kinds,  bed-linen  and  household  goods. 

Let  us  follow  Aunt  Lizzie  as  she  betakes  herself 
in  heat  and  cold,  sunshine  and  storm,  to  her  labor. 

Often  before  she  rises  in  the  morning,  and  while 
she  eats  her  breakfast,  she  is  beset  by  a  number  of 
people  who  come  on  different  errands  of  need.  Here 
is  a  poor  girl  who  wants  a  situation ;  there  is  a  boy 
whose  mother  is  dving;  this  woman  wishes  Aunt 
16 


186       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

Lizzie  to  try  and  save  her  wayward  child;  that  old 
man  entreats  her  to  provide  clothing  for  a  needy 
household.  Endless  and  varied  are  their  wants, — 
money  and  bread,  counsel  and  comfort. 

"Before  leaving  the  house,"  to  quote  her  own 
words,  "  I  found  it  good  to  kneel  and  pray  in  silence, 
to  draw  close  to  the  tender,  loving  Christ,  for  I  am 
going  among  the  poor.  Our  Savior  was  found  in  the 
city  streets,  in  the  lanes  and  allies,  where  the  lame 
and  blind  and  sick  were.  If  I  do  His  work  faith- 
fully, I  must  day  by  day  have  divine  aid."  First, 
she  climbs  a  dark  stairway  and  finds  the  discouraged 
mother  of  many  little  ones.  As  she  recounts  her 
troubles  and  difficulties  with  a  look  of  agony,. Aunt 
Lizzie  changes  her  tears  to  tears  of  joy,  as  she  prom- 
ises her  clothing  from  the  benevolent  wardrobe  and 
slips  some  money  into  her  hand.  "  The  Lord 
knows,"  cries  the  poor  woman,  "  the  Lord  knows  I 
don't  know  what  to  say  to  you,  but  the  Lord  knows 
how  thankful  I  am." 

She  next  goes  out  to  Blue  Island  Avenue,  where 
she  visits  a  widow,  a  great  sufferer  for  years,  whose 
two  daughters  strive  in  vain  to  keep  the  wolf  from 
the  door.  She  opens  her  bag  and  takes  out  a  glass 
of  jelly,  and  an  orange,  pays  the  rent,  and  finding 
that  their  only  stove  is  useless  and  the  weather 
bitter  cold,  she  purchases  them  a  new  one  and  pro- 
vides fuel. 


LABORS  AMONG  THE  POOR.  1ST 


Another  family  only  two  weeks  in  the  city,  have 
sent  for  Annt  Lizzie;  their  little  boy  has  just  died 
suddenly  of  scarlet  fever;  the  coffin  stands  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  on  one  of  their  unopened 
chests.  Everything  is  in  confusion.  Sickness  has 
prevented  their  even  unpacking  their  goods.  Aunt 
Lizzie  kneels  in  the  midst  of  the  sorrowing  group 
and  cries  to  Jesus  to  bind  up  these  broken  hearts. 
Then  she  bestirs  herself  to  help  them  lay  the  dust 
of  their  child  in  the  grave  with  that  decent  mourn- 
ing  that  is  as  dear  to  the  hearts  of  the  poor  as  to 
those  of  the  rich.  In  the  afternoon  she  makes  sev- 
eral visits  in  company  with  one  of  the  charitable 
ladies  of  the  church,  wading  through  the  snow;  as 
they  come  home  it  is  still  snowing  heavily,  and  they 
follow  in  the  track  of  four  men,  who  break  a  path 
in  the  middle  of  the  road. 

This  is  no  fancy  sketch.  These  incidents  are  all 
taken  from  the  pages  of  Aunt  Lizzie's  diary,  and, 
with  one  exception,  are  all  included  in  her  work  of 
one  day. 

Let  us  give  a  day's  work  of  a  rather  different 
character: 

While  it  was  yet  cool  in  the  early  morning,  Aunt 
Lizzie  went  to  look  after  her  "  tried  ones,"  as  she 
tenderly  calls  them.  As  she  turned  the  corner  of 
ail  alley,  a  ragged  boy  set  up  a  shout  that  Aunt 
Lizzie  had  come;  the  children  dropped  their  play 


18S       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 


and  gathered  around  her.  She  drew  them  together 
in  the  shade  of  an  old  building,  and  began  to  sing 
to  them.  In  twenty  minutes  she  had  gathered  a 
congregation  of  thirty-two  mothers  and  children, 
to  whom  she  distributed  papers  and  tracts,  and  then 
prayed  and  sang  with  them. 

Climbing  many  stairs,  she  next  enters  a  room, 
terrible  in  its  heat  and  discomfort,  yet  scrupulously 
neat  and  clean.  Here  dwell  some  of  the  Lord's 
own  poor.  Aunt  Lizzie  places  her  bouquet  in  a 
pitcher,  where  the  sick  man  can  enjoy  its  fragrance, 
and  as  she  makes  him  a  glass  of  lemonade,  she  lis- 
tens to  the  sorrowful  words  wTith  which  he  tells  of 
his  pain  and  anguish  of  body,  how  he  dreads  the 
sleepless  night,  and  with  what  joy  he  hails  the 
morning.  "  "What  do  you  think  about  in  those 
long,  dreary  hours?"  asks  the  kind  visitor.  "I 
feel,"  answers  the  sick  man,  "  that  my  peace  is 
made  with  God;  nothing  troubles  me  but  my  rent. 
You  see  we  cannot  do  without  a  shelter." 

"How  much  do  you  owe?"  asks  Aunt  Lizzie, 
who  fully  sympathizes  with  him  in  disliking  the 
very  word  rent.  She  knows  too  well  that  to  the  poor 
it  is  a  word  full  of  misery,  darkness  and  woe. 

tk  Ten  dollars,"  sighs  the  sick  man,  "  and  I  have 
no  way  of  raising  a  cent." 

Aunt  Lizzie  joyfully  opens  her  purse,  praising 
God  that  it  has  just  been  filled  for  her,  and  says: 


LABORS  AMONG  THE  POOR.  189 

"  I  have  the  money  for  yon,  poor  man."  His  whole 
frame  shakes  with  excitement;  raising  himself  up 
in  bed:  "What  shall  I  say?"  he  exclaims;  "the 
Lord  has  done  it."  As  they  pray  together,  he  be- 
comes more  calm,  and  seems  to  rest. 

"  The  next  time  I  called,"  goes  on  the  journal,  "he 
said,  'You  know  the  money  you  gave  me,  I  could 
not  wait  for  the  agent  to  come,  but  sent  it  to  him; 
I  have  been  happy  ever  since.'  I  said  to  him,  '  In 
these  weary  hours,  give  yourself  no  more  anxiety 
about  your  rent.  I  have  another  ten  dollars  for  you 
when  it  is  due.'  He  wept  his  thanks,  but  could  not 
speak.  Thus  Jesus  magnified  the  gift.  All  this 
weight  of  gratitude  to  God  and  man,  all  this  com- 
fort and  freedom  from  care,  all  this  joy  cost  but  ten 
dollars." 

She  next  visits  a  lowly  abode  where  a  little  child 
lies  in  pain.  A  holy  joy  irradiates  the  humble 
home,  whose  inmates  have  learned  to  repose,  with 
implicit  confidence,  on  the  word  of  God.  "The 
secret  of  the  Lord  is  with  the  lowly,"  thinks  Aunt 
Lizzie,  as  she  bends  over  the  dying  child,  and  hears 
him  tell  of  his  confidence  in  the  Savior  whom  he 
loves,  and  the  home  in  the  skies  to  which  he  is  aroinff. 
He  has  heard  the  story  of  peace,  has  welcomed  it, 
and  is  blessed  beyond  the  felicities  of  earth.  She 
produces  her  gifts,  a  tumbler  of  currant  jelly  to 
make  him  a  cooling  drink,  and  the  red  peach  which 


190      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

is  held  lovingly  in  the  thin,  hot  fingers,  and  admired 
again  and  again  before  it  is  eaten.  Then  she  prays 
and  sings  the  familiar  Sunday-school  hymns,  the 
child's  voice  joining  in  clear  and  ringing  like  a  silver 
bell.  Comforted  herself  she  leaves  the  poor  room, 
which  is  after  all  a  gate  of  heaven. 

On  the  way  home  to  dinner  she  calls  on  three 
motherless  girls.  To  her  joy  she  finds  the  two 
eldest  earnestly  inquiring  the  way  to  Jesus.  Here 
she  sits  down  and  tenderly  tries  to  take  a  mother's 
place  in  making  clear  the  gospel  to  these  children 
so  dear  to  her  heart,  and  prays  that  the  promises  of 
God  may  soon  shed  light  upon  their  path. 

On  her  table  she  finds  a  request  to  visit  a  poor 
woman  who  has  been  very  sick,  and  makes  it  her 
first  business  in  the  afternoon  to  see  her.  She 
learns  that  the  family  has  resided  in  the  city  a  year, 
but  the  woman  not  being  social  with  her  neighbors, 
none  of  them  have  been  in  to  inquire  about  her. 
Her  doctor  seeing  that  she  is  a  sensible  person, 
though  very  peculiar  and  low-spirited,  recommends 
her  to  send  for  Aunt  Lizzie,  who  listens  to  all  her 
complaints  and  tries  to  soothe  her.  After  reading 
the  Bible  and  praying,  as  is  her  invariable  custom, 
Aunt  Lizzie  tells  her  that  only  the  Holy  Spirit  can 
touch  her  eyes  and  make  her  see  and  believe,  and 
begs  her  to  ask  God  to  help  her.  u  I  have  very  little 
faith  in  the  kindly  intentions  of  any  one,"  cried  the 


LABORS  AMONG  THE  POOR.  191 

sick  woman,  "  but  I  believe  in  you,  and  thank  you 
for  coming  and  praying  with  me.  Is  it  not  strange 
that  I  am  so  indifferent  to  religion?"  "Qnly  that 
can  make  you  happy,"  Aunt  Lizzie  tells  her,  and 
leaves  her  thinking  over  her  relations  to  God. 

In  the  evening  a  young  man  calls,  telling  her  that 
he  has  been  to  the  houses  of  ten  ministers  to  find 
one  to  marry  him,  but  they  were  all  out  of  the  city. 
She  tells  him  that  Saturday  is  considered  a  bad  day 
to  get  married.  "But,"  says  he,  "I  have  got  my 
pay  and  am  now  ready  to  take  a  wife.  Why  in 
thunder  don't  they  commission  you  to  marry  folks?" 
To  which  Aunt  Lizzie  responded  by  giving  him  a 
card  with  the  address  of  a  clergyman  whom  she 
knew  to  be  in  town.  In  an  emer^encv,  she  has 
sometimes  conducted  a  funeral,  but  marrying  peo- 
ple is  still  beyond  her  province. 

Such  records  might  be  made  of  many  of  Aunt 
Lizzie's  days.  Not  all  equal  in  interest,  but  many 
far  surpassing  these  in  actual  labor.  Often  she 
makes  from  ten  to  fifteen  calls,  ascends  forty  flights 
of  stairs  and  walks  forty  or  fifty  blocks  in  the  course 
of  the  day.  ISTor  is  she  deterred  by  the  weather; 
the  bitter  winter  days  which  others  consider  as  an 
excuse  for  staying  at  home,  are  to  her  an  additional 
reason  for  looking  after  the  necessities  of  the  poor; 
these  are  the  times  of  severest  want  and  suffering. 
On  the  second  of  January,  1879,  the  mercury  fell  to 


192      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

twenty-two  degrees  below  zero,  the  severe  cold  be- 
ing accompanied  by  a  searching  wind,  which  made 
it  all  the  more  trying.  Aunt  Lizzie,  fearing  that 
some  one  would  freeze,  wrapped  herself  up  as  warm- 
ly as  she  could  and  taking  a  street-car,  started  to 
the  rescue.  After  riding  a  few  minutes,  a  gentle- 
man sitting  opposite  accosted  her,  "Madam,"  said 
he,  "  though  you  do  not  know  me,  I  am  well  ac- 
quainted with  you  and  }rour  good  works  among  the 
poor.  If  you  can  go  out  this  terrible  day  to  see  to 
their  wants,  the  least  that  the  rest  of  us  can  do  is  to 
help  you.  Here  are  orders  on  my  butcher  for  six 
roasts  of  beef;  distribute  them  as  you  think  best." 
Another  gentleman  added,  "  Allow  me  to  help  in 
this  time  of  distress,  and  to  give  you  orders  for 
three  legs  of  mutton."  "Thank  you,  gentlemen," 
said  Aunt  Lizzie,  "  the  poor  will  bless  you  for  this." 
All  day,  like  an  angel  from  heaven,  she  went  from 
one  perishing  family  to  another  bringing  to  them 
light  and  joy.  "Where  they  had  no  fire,  she  gave 
an  order  for  half  a  ton  of  coal,  where  they  were 
hungry,  she  fed  them.  No  wonder  that  the  name  of 
Aunt  Lizzie  is  loved  and  reverenced  among  the  poor. 
Although  naturally  so  exceedingly  generous,  that 
she  has  been  known  to  take  off  her  bonnet  in  the 
street  and  give  it  to  some  poor,  old  woman  who  bad 
none,  going  home  herself  with  a  veil  over  her  head, 
Aunt  Lizzie  still  is  a  careful  and  discriminating  al- 


LABORS  AMONG  THE  POOR.  193 

monerof  the  charities  of  others;  money  entrusted 
to  her  is  seldom  thrown  away  on  the  unworthy. 
Long  experience  with  human  nature  has  rendered 
her  so  good  a  judge  of  faces  that  she  is  rarely  de- 
ceived. Her  rule  for  giving  is  this :  "  The  best  kind 
of  charity  is  to  help  those  who  are  willing  to  help 
themselves.  Promiscuous  alms-giving  without  in- 
quiry into  the  worthiness  of  the  applicant  is  bad  in 
every  sense;  but  to  search  out  quietly  and  assist 
those  who  are  struo^lino:  for  themselves  is  the  kind 
that  scattereth  and  yet  increaseth.  It  is  not  the 
true  way  to  give  a  prayer  instead  of  bread  to  the 
starving.  My  experience  teaches  me  that  it  is  much 
easier  to  make  Christians  of  people  when  their  bodies 
are  made  comfortable.  I  must  care  for  the  body  in 
order  to  reach  the  soul." 

One  of  the  modes  of  helping  the  indigent  is  by 
procuring  work  for  them.  The  little  rack  behind 
her  door  often  holds  as  many  as  forty  names  of  those 
who  have  applied  to  her  to  find  them  employment 
of  different  kinds.  This  aid  she  extends  to  large 
numbers.  In  some  of  our  business  houses.  Aunt 
Lizzie's  recommendation  is  of  great  service  to  an 
applicant.  Her  helping  hand  is  thus  stretched  out 
to  whole  families,  often  for  a  long  period. 

During  the  war,  a  German  soldier  named  Carl 
Schneider,  was  wounded  in  the  arm  and  brought  to 
Aunt  Lizzie's  hospital.  He  was  attacked  by  pneu- 
17 


194:     TEE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

monia,  and  it  also  became  necessary  to  amputate 
Ins  arm.  He  was  thus  confined  to  his  cot  for  a 
long  time.  He  had  been  educated  a  Eoman  Catho- 
lic; but  as  he  lay  in  his  bed  and  heard  Aunt  Liz- 
zie read  the  Bible  to  the  wounded  men  around  him, 
he  drank  in  the  precious  truths,  and,  renouncing 
his  old  faith,  became  an  earnest,  happy  believer  in 
the  Protestant  religion.  "When  well  enough  to 
leave  the  hospital,  he  was  discharged,  and  returned 
to  Chicago,  with  weak  lungs,  having  sacrificed  his 
health  and  strength  toTiis  adopted  country.  Aunt 
Lizzie  on  coming  to  this  city  found  him  very 
poor,  with  a  family  to  care  for.  She  secured  him 
a  situation  as  switchman  on  the  railroad.  Four 
years  later,  consumption  developed  itself,  and  he 
died  after  a  short  illness,  leaving  his  widow  and 
four  children  without  a  relative  in  this  country,  and 
in  o^reat  destitution.  Aunt  Lizzie  a^ain  came  to  the 
rescue.  She  had  visited  the  sick  man  during  his 
illness,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  de- 
part a  happy  believer  in  Christ.  After  his  death 
she  procured  employment  for  the  mother,  and  a 
situation  for  the  oldest  boy,  where  he  could  be  un- 
der the  watch-care  of  a  good  Christian  man. 

For  three  years  she  watched  over  the  fortunes  of 
the  family,  helping  them  in  times  of  need,  and 
preaching  the  gospel  to  them.  The  mother  and  the 
two  oldest  children  were  brought  into  the  church. 


LABORS  AMONG  THE  POOR.  195 

Then  the  mother  fell  ill  and  died.  The  four  child- 
ren clung  together  for  a  while,  but  the  oldest  girl 
had  had  no  training  which  fitted  her  to  take  charge 
of  a  family  ;  and  Aunt  Lizzie,  inner  frequent  visits 
found  them  so  uncomfortable  and  forlorn,  for  want 
of  a  little  forethought  and  good  management,  that 
she  came  to  the  conclusion  that  they  would  be  bet- 
ter off  in  different  families.  She  therefore  found  a 
home  for  Emil,  a  boy  of  fifteen,  on  a  farm  where  he 
would  be  trained  to  become  a  useful  man,  and  short- 
ly after  placed  his  younger  sister,  Annie,  in  a 
Christian  family  near  by,  where  the  orphan  sister 
and  brother  would  have  the  opportunity  of  meeting 
frequently.  Thus  she  has  secured  good  homes  and 
a  hopeful  future  for  these  children. 

Helping  so  many  young  people,  Aunt  Lizzie  has 
learned  to  study  their  different  characters,  and  the 
calling  for  which  they  are  best  fitted,  and  to  assist 
them  accordingly.  One  day  an  orphan  girl  called 
upon  her,  saying  that  she  had  just  come  to  the  city 
in  search  of  occupation.  Aunt  Lizzie  perceived  in 
her  at  once  a  very  active,  intelligent  mind,  which 
had  received  but  little  training.  She  was  eager  to 
learn,  but  without  means.  For  two  years  Aunt 
Lizzie  befriended  her.  She  procured  her  a  home 
where  she  could  earn  her  board  by  sewing;  she 
helped  her  to  pay  for  lessons  from  the  best  teach- 
ers; she  saw  that  her  wardrobe  was  supplied  with 


196      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

plain,  but  sufficient  clothing;  in  short,  she  acted 
the  part  of  a  mother  to  the  young  student.  To-day 
this  young  woman  is  living  in  a  distant  city,  earn- 
ing an  independent  livelihood  as  a  journalist. 

Not  to  help  the  lazy,  and  those  who  wish  to  make 
a  living  without  work,  is  as  distinctively  a  part  of 
Aunt  Lizzie's  creed  as  to  extend  a  helping  hand  to 
the  struggling.  Those  that  come  to  her  with  a 
whine  that  the  world  owes  them  a  living,  receive 
no  mercy  at  her  hands.  "  Go  and  make  yourself 
a  place  in  the  world,"  is  her  advice  to  such,  always 
kindly  given. 

Even  in  more  serious  cases,  her  good  nature  never 
fails.  One  morning  before  daylight  she  heard  some 
one  stealing  from  her  woodpile,  just  under  her  bed- 
room window.  She  crept  from  her  bed  and  gently 
raised  the  sash.  Directly  below  her  were  a  woman 
and  a  boy  filling  their  basket  from  her  little  store. 
No  doubt  if  they  had  asked  she  would  have  given 
them  more  than  they  could  carry  away,  but  as  it  was, 
she  was  justly  indignant  that  those,  in  whom  she 
easily  recognized,  in  the  twilight,  old  recipients  of 
her  bounty,  should  be  so  ungrateful.  In  her  softest 
tones  she  began  to  sing, 

"  To  do  to  others  as  I  would 

That  they  should  do  to  me, 

Will  make  me  happy,  kind  and  good, 

Just  as  I  ought  to  be." 


LABORS  AMONG  THE  POOR.  197 

The  thieving  widow  recognized  the  voice,  gave  a 
startled  look  upward,  and  fled,  leaving  her  basket 
behind  her. 

At  another  time  she  occupied  a  parlor,  whose 
window  opened  upon  a  balcony  of  easy  access  from 
the  street.  She  wakened  suddenly  one  night,  with 
the  feeling  that  some  one  had  entered  the  room. 
Cautiously  looking  about  her,  she  saw  one  man 
rifling  her  bureau  drawers,  and  another  standing  by 
the  mantelpiece,  on  which  was  her  watch.  Aunt 
Lizzie  had  lived  too  long  in  the  army  to  be  afraid 
of  a  couple  of  burglars,  and  resolved  to  frighten 
them  off. 

Sitting  straight  up  in  bed,  she  asked  in  a  loud 
voice,  "  What  are  you  looking  for,  boys?  If  it  is  I, 
here  I  am,"  and  shook  with  laughter  as  they 
dropped  everything,  rushed  for  the  open  window, 
leaped  from  the  balcony  and  ran  up  the  street. 
Coolly  rising,  Aunt  Lizzie  fastened  the  window,  and 
returned  to  her  bed  for  another  nap. 

We  cannot  better  close  this  chapter  than  by  giv- 
ing in  Aunt  Lizzie's  own  words  her  feelings  towards 
the  poor,  and  her  opinions  on  the  much  vexed  sub- 
ject of  benevolence. 

"  It  does  seem  to  me  that  to  share  with  the  Lord's  poor  now 
and  to  trust  Him  to  share  with  me  by-and-by  is  the  right  sort 
of  faith.  Yet  many  of  my  friends  remonstrate  with  me,  refer- 
ring to  my  possible  loss  of  health  and  old  age  of  want.    The 


19S      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

Lord  has  been  so  faithful  to  me,  his  sinful  child,  I  cannot  for  a 
moment  doubt  Him;  the  Lord  helps  the  man  that  helps  the 
poor." 

"Have  been  looking  over  my  wardrobe  to  see  what  I  can 
spare.  I  love  the  poor,  they  are  my  truest  friends;  I  truly  be- 
lieve they  give  more  than  the  rich.  Money  is  by  no  means  the 
only  thing  to  give  in  this  world  ;  neither  do  large  gifts  contrib- 
ute more  to  the  happiness  of  the  receiver  than  small  ones.  In 
my  daily  ministrations,  conversing  with  people,  I  often  ask 
what  or  who  does  most  to  make  them  happy.  Almost  invaria- 
bly they  tell  of  some  benevolent  old  clergyman,  whose  salary 
has  never  been  more  than  enough  to  barely  support  him,  or  of 
some  poor  widow  who  goes  from  house  to  hou-e  like  an  angel 
of  mercy.  It  is  astonishing  how  much  one  can  give  without 
money  ;  a  kind  word,  a  helping  hand,  the  warm  sympathy  of  a 
heart  that  rejoices  with  those  that  do  rejoice  and  weeps  with 
those  that  weep.  No  person  living  is  so  poor  as  not  to  contrib- 
ute something  to  the  happiness  of  those  around  him.  Helpful 
acts  and  helpful  words  are  better  than  pearls  and  diamonds  to 
strew  along  the  roadside  of  life,  and  will  yield  a  valuable 
harvest,  as  we  shall  find  after  many  days." 

"  Received  a  note  from  a  sick  woman,  asking  me  to  call  upon 
her.  The  note  stated :  ■  Tou  are  called  upon  because  you  are 
kind  to  the  poor.'  Philanthropy  is  not  religion,  but  there  is  no 
religion  without  philanthropy.  He  that  is  indifferent  to  the 
poor  is  not  Christian.  How  to  care  for  the  poor  is  a  great  ques- 
tion. It  is  to  be  done  not  merely  by  feeding  the  hungry  and 
clothing  the  naked,  but  yet  more  by  throwing  a  religious  influ- 
ence around  them.  One  of  the  Savior's  most  delightful  dis- 
courses, second  only  to  the  sermon  on  the  mount,  was  delivered 
at  Jacob's  well,  to  but  one  listener,  and  she  a  poor,  despised 
Samaritan  woman.  How  that  encourages  my  heart  to  speak 
the  truths  of  the  gospel  to  all  the  solitary  listeners  I  meet." 

"  Oh  God,  make  me  a  blessing  to  those  in  want  and  poverty. 


LABORS  AMONG  THE  POOR.  199 

Let  the  poor,  as  they  pass  my  grave,  point  to  the  little  spot 
and  say:  'There  lies  a  friend  whose  unwearied  kindness 
was  the  constant  relief  of  my  distress,  who  tenderly  visited  my 
languishing  bed,  and  supplied  my  suffering  wants;  who  was  a 
cordial  to  my  dejected  spirit,  and  kindly  watched  for  my 
soul.'  " 


CHAPTER  XL 

LABORS  MANIFOLD. 

We  propose  in  this  chapter  to  give  a  sketch 
of  Aunt  Lizzie's  general  work  as  a  Christian  wo- 
man. Though  her  time  is  given  almost  exclusive- 
ly to  her  vocation  as  the  missionary  of  a  single 
church,  her  sympathies  are  very  broad,  and  she  has 
found  opportunities  to  assist  in  almost  every  de- 
partment of  Christian  activity.  Time  would  fail 
us  to  tell  of  all  her  labors  in  different  directions, 
but  from  a  few  examples  the  rest  can  be  inferred. 

One  Sunday  afternoon,  Aunt  Lizzie  on  her  way  to 
a  Danish  Mission  Sunday-school,  passed  a  theatre 
which,  in  utter  disregard  of  the  Sabbath,  was  open 
for  a  matinee.  A  long  line  of  boys,  in  some  of 
whom  Aunt  Lizzie  recognized  her  own  Sunday- 
school  scholars,  were  buying  fifteen  and  twenty -five 
cent  tickets.  She  counted  two  hundred  and  eighty 
lads  and  young  men.  "  What,  "  said  she,  "  will  be 
the  future  of  a  country  that  so  heedlessly  permits 
the  morals  of  its  youth  to  be  sapped  % "  Sick  at 
heart  she  resolved  to  pray  over  this  great  evil. 
(200) 


LABORS  MANIFOLD.  201 

A  fortnight  later,  in  a  prayer-meeting  held  after 
the  sermon,  the  pastor  invited  those  who  wished 
the  prayers  of  Christians  to  rise.  A  gentleman  with 
a  pale  face,  in  a  large  cloak,  rose  up  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  room,  but  after  the  meeting  was  dis- 
missed, slipped  out  before  any  one  could  accost  him. 
The  next  evening  at  the  young  people's  meeting,  a 
lady  sat  directly  across  the  aisle  from  Aunt  Lizzie, 
who  noticed,  every  time  she  looked  that  way,  that 
the  eyes  of  the  stranger  were  fastened  upon  her. 
Touched  by  the  sadness  of  the  face,  Aunt  Lizzie,  as 
is  her  custom,  at  a  pause  in  the  meeting  began  to 
sing,  "Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul,"  in  which  the  con- 
gregation joined.  At  the  words,  "  Other  refuge 
have  I  none,"  the  lady  was  visibly  affected,  and  at 
the  close  of  the  hymn  rose  and  confessed  her  need  of 
Christ.  The  pastor  called  upon  Aunt  Lizzie  to 
pray.  She  poured  out  her  soul  in  faith  for  the  con- 
version of  the  stranger.  At  the  close  of  the  meet- 
ing she  went  immediately  to  her,  introduced  herself 
and  sought  to  point  the  way  to  Christ.  The  listener 
heard  her  with  tears,  and,  as  they  parted,  invited 
her  to  call  at  her  rooms  the  next  morning  at  ten 
o'clock. 

Punctual  to  the  moment,  Aunt  Lizzie  was  there. 
A  little  boy,  three  years  old,  opened  the  door  for 
her,  ran  back  and  called,  "  Come,  mamma,  here's 
grandma,"  and  then  climbed  at  once  into  the  visi- 


202      THE  STORY  OF  A  UNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

tor's  lap.  The  room  was  elegantly  furnished. 
What  struck  Aunt  Lizzie  afterwards  as  most  sin 211- 
lar  ornaments,  were  two  mottoes  hanging  on  the 
wall,  "  Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee,"  and  "  Simply  to 
thy  cross  I  cling." 

A  door  opened,  and  the  lady  entered,  accompa- 
nied by  the  pale  gentleman  whom  Aunt  Lizzie  had 
seen  on  Sunday  evening.  He  was  introduced  as 
the  husband  and  father.  Aunt  Lizzie  was  glad  to 
meet  him,  as  she  had  regretted  his  leaving  the 
church  without  a  word  of  Christian  welcome. 

Husband  and  wife  drew  their  chairs  close  to  her. 
"  Madam,"  said  the  gentleman  with  his  eyes  full 
of  tears,  u  will  you  cease  to  love  us  when  I  tell  you 
onr  profession  ?  "We  are  leading  actors  in  a  theatre." 
Looking  up  at  them,  Aunt  Lizzie  answered,  "  Can 
I  cease  to  love  whom  Jesus  loves?  And  I  know 
that  Jesus  loves  you."  Taking  his  wife's  hand  in 
his  affectionately,  he  said,  "You  must  have  pecu- 
liar sympathy  for  my  wife;  her  present  position  is 
my  fault,  not  hers.  Sunday  evenings,  after  acting 
in  the  theatre  through  the  afternoon,  we  have  at- 
tended your  church,  and  have  become  so  convinced 
of  our  guilt  before  God,  that  we  have  resolved,  at 
all  hazards,  to  discontinue  our  connection  with  the 
theatre.  We  can  no  longer  profane  God's  day  with 
such  practices."  Aunt  Lizzie  proposed  that  they 
should  pray  together,   and  after  she  had  pleaded 


LABORS  MANIFOLD.  203 

with  God  on  their  behalf,  she  said,  "  My  son,  pray." 
He  had  lived  the  life  of  an  actor  in  a  low  theatre 
for  live  years,  but  he  knew  how  to  pray.  He  told 
God  ail  their  sin  and  cried  for  pardon. 

Afterwards  they  told  Aunt  Lizzie  that  they  were 
penniless,  having  squandered  all  their  money,  and 
asked  her  to  aid  them  in  making  an  honest  living. 
She  emptied  her  purse,  which  contained  but  three 
dollars,  into  their  hands,  and  went  out  to  get  some- 
thing for  them  to  do.  They  proved  their  sincerity 
by  thankfully  accepting  the  only  employment  Aunt 
Lizzie  could  find.  The  delicate  woman  worked  at 
the  machine,  making  overalls  at  a  dollar  a  day, 
while  her  husband  made  paper  bags.  In  this  way 
they  subsisted  for  some  weeks. 

After  a  while,  Aunt  Lizzie  discovered  that  the 
actor  had  married  his  wife  against  the  will  of  her 
father.  The  motherless  girl  had  just  graduated 
from  a  young  ladies'  college,  and,  full  of  romantic 
notions,  fell  in  love  with  the  handsome  actor  and 
married  him.  Aunt  Lizzie  learning  that  the  father 
was  a  Christian,  though  somewhat  stern,  wrote  him 
a  kind  letter,  stating  the  circumstances.  She  then 
persuaded  the  daughter  to  write,  but  before  the 
letter  was  posted,  Aunt  Lizzie  received  an  answer, 
full  of  love  and  forgiveness,  from  the  father.  The 
brother  also  wrote  inviting  them  to  his  house. 
They  went,  followed  by  Aunt  Lizzie's  entreaties  to 


204      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

pray  and  trustingly  to  wait  for  the  revelation  of 
God's  will  concerning  them. 

A  few  days  after  she  received  a  letter  stating  that 
the  Lord  had  provided  for  their  maintenance.  The 
actor,  who  had  formerly  been  a  compositor,  had  at 
once  obtained  a  situation  on  a  county  paper,  where 
he  could  make  a  comfortable  living.  "AVe  are 
happy  in  Christ,"  they  wrote;  "farewell  to  the 
theatre  forever;  the  church  shall  be  our  home  while 
we  live."  Following  letters  have  proved  that  this 
was  no  passing  sentiment,  but  their  fixed  purpose. 
Thus,  though  Aunt  Lizzie's  prayers  did  not  close 
the  theatre,  they  plucked  as  brands  from  the  burn- 
ing, its  two  leading  actors. 

Aunt  Lizzie  has  always  had  a  very  tender  anxiety 
for  all  those  who,  having  never  known  the  power  of 
God,  wander  off  into  the  darkness  of  doubt  and  in- 
fi deli  ty .  Strong  and  true  in  the  faith  herself,  she  can 
still  recognize  the  fact  that  others  may  not  see  as 
she  sees.  Instead  of  denouncing,  she  pities  them. 
A  couple  of  extracts  from  her  diary  will  best  show 
the  workings  of  her  mind  on  this  important  subject: 

"Tain  satisfied  every  day  that  I  can  do  more  good  by  being 
good  myself  than  in  any  other  way.  My  varied  experience 
teaches  me  that  men  differ  as  to  what  is  right,  but  all  believe 
that  something  is  right;  they  differ  as  to  what  is  wrong,  but  all 
believe  that  something  is  wrong.'' 

"  Called  on  a  drunkard's  wife;  sought  to  comfort  her  with  the 
words  of  Jesus.     What  power  there  is  in  those  words.     Before 


LABORS  MANIFOLD.  205 

infidels  can  prevent  men  from  thinking-  as  they  ever  have  done 
of  Christ,  they  must  blot  out  the  gentle  words  with  which,  in 
the  presence  of  hypocrisy,  the  Savior  welcomed  that  timid  re- 
pentance that  could  only  express  its  silent  love  in  an  agony  of 
tears;  they  must  blot  out  those  words  addressed  to  the  dying 
penitent,  who.  softened  by  the  patience  of  the  mighty  sufferer, 
detected,  at  last,  his  Savior  under  the  veil  of  sorrow,  and  implored 
jto  be  remembered  by  Him  when  He  came  into  his  kingdom; 
they  must  blot  out  the  remembrance  of  the  tears  He  shed  at  the 
grave  of  Lazarus,  not  surely  for  him  whom  He  was  about  to  raise, 
but  in  pure  sympathy  with  the  sorrows  of  humanity,  for  the 
myriad  myriads  of  desolate  mourners  who  could  not  fly  to  Him 
with  Mary,  and  say,  '  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here  my  brother 
had  not  died.'  Ah,  the  Bible  is  true,  every  word  of  it;  God  is 
true.  Oh,  that  men  could  feel  their  need  of  a  dying,  risen  Lord, 
their  need  of  a  Savior." 

Aunt  Lizzie  has  found  that  there  is  no  remedy 
for  doubt  except  the  Word  of  God,  that  the  Bible  is 
its  own  best  witness.  Hence  in  all  her  encounters 
with  infidelity,  she  uses  no  weapons  except  those 
drawn  from  its  armory. 

Some  years  ago,  Aunt  Lizzie  met  an  old  gentle- 
man, who  professed  to  be  an  infidel.  Though  sixty 
years  of  age,  he  had  no  knowledge  of  Christ.  He 
often  tried  to  argue  with  her,  but  she,  seeing  that 
he  had  no  wish  to  know  the  truth,  always  refused  to 
enter  into  any  discussion  with  him.  She  told  him 
that  his  first  great  duty  was  to  fear  God  and  keep 
His  commandments.  Whenever  he  met  her  on  the 
street,  he  sneeringly  asked,  "  Are  you  still  pray- 
ing ? "     "  Yes,  "  was  the  invariable  reply.     "  For 


206      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

me  ? "  "  Certainly,  "  was  the  calm  answer.  One 
day,  overcome  by  her  anxiety  for  his  soul,  she  be- 
sought him  with  tears  to  listen  to  her  pleadings  for 
Christ,  but  the  old  gentleman  became  very  angry 
and  went  off  in  a  rage. 

Some  time  after,  he  was  laid  on  his  death-bed, 
and  his  family,  knowing  nothing  of  these  en- 
counters, sent  for  Aunt  Lizzie  to  come  and  see 
him.  Hearing  some  one  entering  the  hall,  he  asked 
who  it  was  ;  and  being  told  that  it  was  Aunt  Liz- 
zie, he  refused  to  see  her,  saying  that  he  would  rath- 
er see  any  one  than  her.  Finally,  one  snowy  Sun- 
day, he  sent  for  her.  AYhen  she  came  into  his  room 
he  greeted  her  cordially,  and  asked  her  if  she  had 
ever  read  "  Beecher's  Prayers, "  a  copy  of  which  lay 
on  a  little  table  by  the  bed.  She  said  that  she  had, 
and  that  she  admired  them.  He  then  called  her 
attention  to  a  prayer  that  had  deeply  impressed 
him,  headed,  "  My  need  of  God.  "  "  May  I  read  it 
aloud  ? "  asked  Aunt  Lizzie,  and  as  he  signified  his 
assent,  she  slowly  read  the  petition  so  applicable  to 
his  case,  much  affected  herself,  for  she  hardly,  had 
dared  to  hope  that  he  would  ever  show  so  much  in- 
terest in  anything  religious.  "When  she  finished, 
she  said,  "  If  you  had  asked  me,  I  never  could  have 
framed  a  petition  which  would  suit  you  so  well;  this 
prayer  meets  your  case.  "  "  Yes,  "  he  answered, 
"  I  now  own  mv  need  of  God.     Since  I  have  been 


LABORS  MANIFOLD.  207 

obliged  to  lie  here  and  think,  I  feel  very  differently. 
Teach  me  your  plan  of  salvation,  Aunt  Lizzie,  for 
it  looks  dark,  I  can't  understand  it."  Rejoicing 
that  such  an  opportunity  was  at  last  granted  her, 
she  said  that  she  had  no  plan  of  her  own,  but  that 
she  would  read  to  him  the  words  of  Christ.  She 
read  a  few  verses  from  the  eighteenth  chapter  of 
Matthew,  and  said,  "  This  is  the  simplicity  of  the 
gospel  ;  a  child  can  receive  it,  and  you  must  become 
a  child. " 

As  he  offered  no  opposition,  she  proceeded,  "  I 
will  read  a  prayer  if  you  will  permit,"  and  selected 
the  fifty -first  Psalm.  As  she  finished,  he  groaned 
aloud  and  said,  "Place  a  mark  there,  that  I  may 
read  that  myself,  and  do  pray  for  me."  She  knelt 
down  and  besought  God  to  have  mercy  on  the  re- 
pentant man.  As  she  left  him,  he  said  several 
times,  "  I  do  believe,  I  do  believe."  He  enjoyed 
great  peace  during  his  few  remaining  days,  and  died 
rejoicing  in  Christ. 

Aunt  Lizzie  has  always  been  a  H  temperance 
woman."  With  no  time  to  attend  the  meetings  of 
the  various  temperance  societies,  she  has,  neverthe- 
less, done  the  work  of  a  small  but  active  society 
herself,  always  ready  to  fight  against  the  great  de- 
stroyer of  men's  bodies  and  souls.  "While  she  was 
in  the  hospitals,  she  gave  many  private  temperance 
lectures,  holding  her  audience  of  one  by  the  collar 


208       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEX. 

or  the  button  hole.  In  this  way  she  often  saved 
her  boys  from  a  worse  enemy  than  the  Confederates. 
Many  made  her  their  mother-confessor,  and  came 
to  her  for  aid  in  their  conflicts  with  temptation. 

One  youth,  who  had  been  drawn  into  drinking 
customs  by  his  fellow-officers,  was  in  the  habit, 
when  he  found  himself  becoming  intoxicated,  of 
flying  to  Aunt  Lizzie,  that  she  might  keep  him  from 
the  guard-house.  She  often  hid  him  under  the  long 
table  in  the  convalescents'  dining-room,  and,  on  one 
occasion,  had  hardly  concealed  him,  when  the  offi- 
cer of  the  day  came  to  arrest  him.  She  sometimes 
threatened  to  expose  him  to  his  father,  if  he  did  not 
reform,  but  could  never  find  it  in  her  heart  to  do 
so.  To-day,  mainly  through  her  entreaties  and  ex- 
hortations, he  is  a  strictly  temperate  man,  holding 
a  high  position. 

Often,  when  convalescents  were  left  behind  to 
assist  in  the  hospitals,  they  yielded  to  the  tempta- 
tion to  drink  to  excess.  Aunt  Lizzie  frequently 
came  to  their  rescue  by  procuring  orders  for  them 
to  rejoin  their  regiments,  at  the  front.  All  through 
the  war,  she  proved  herself,  in  this  respect,  the  best 
friend  of  the  soldiers. 

"When  she  came  to  Chicago,  she  continued  the 
same  line  of  work.  Though  she  has  never  been 
able  to  induce  any  saloon-keeper  to  close  his  bar, 
she  has  prevailed  upon  a  large  number  of  drunk- 


LABULS  MANIFOLD.  2U0 

a/ds  to  enter  the  TVashiugtonian  Home,  of  whicli 
she  is  a  director.  She  finds  that  she  must  add  ex- 
postulation to  prayer,  and  many  a  man,  devoted  to 
his  cups,  has  found  Aunt  Lizzie's  prayers  and  en- 
treaties too  powerful  for  him  to  resist. 

At  times  she  has  been  a  frequent  visitor  at  the 
Bridewell,  first  going  there  when  she  labored  on 
the  south  side  of  the  city,  to  carry  pardons  that  she 
had  procured  for  erring  girls,  whom  she  hoped  to 
save.  Afterwards,  she  attended  many  of  the  Sun- 
day afternoon  services  held  for  the  benefit  of  the 
prisoners.     "We  copy  an  extract  from  her  diary. 

"  Xov.  12th,  1876. — Rode  this  afternoon,  nine  miles,  out  to 
the  Bridewell  to  hold  a  meeting.  I  never  was  more  divinely 
aided  by  God  than  on  this  occasion.  The  sight  was  truly  ap- 
palling to  me;  over  four  hundred  men  and  women;  so  many 
young  girls,  poor,  helpless  women!  The  sight  quite  overcame 
me.  I  asked  Deacon  Albro  to  pray  for  me  that  I  might  be  able 
to  deliver  my  message  for,  and  in  the  name  of  Jesus.  The 
Holy  Spirit's  presence  was  manifested  in  unusual  power.  My 
own  heart  was  brought  into  sweet  fellowship  with  God,  as  I 
stood  before  them,  and  besought  them,  in  Christ's  name  to 
seek  peace  with  God,  and  not  to  delay  another  hour.  Over 
three  hundred  rose  for  prayer.  I  knelt  down  and  cried  to  God 
on  their  behalf." 

In  her  visits  to  different  parts  of  the  State,  to 
attend  Sunday- school  conventions  and  other  relig- 
ious gatherings,  Aunt  Lizzie  has  always  made  good 
her  opportunities  to  help  on  the  great  work  of  sol- 
vation. Two  of  her  visits  to  different  colleges  for 
IS 


210      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

girls  have  seemed  worthy  of  record.  The  first  was 
when  she  attended  a  meeting  of  the  State  Conven- 
tion held  in  Greenville.  She  was  invited  to  speak 
before  the  students  of  Almira  College,  but  at  first 
she  refused.  "What  message,"  said  she,  "can  an 
uneducated  woman  like  myself  have  to  those  young 
ladies?"  Shortly  after,  when  strongly  urged,  she 
went.  The  young  ladies  were  gathered  in  the 
chapel.  Aunt  Lizzie  looked  round  upon  them,  and 
was  impressed  with  the  thought  that  they,  as  well 
as  others,  needed  the  religion  of  Christ.  She  rose 
and  told  them  of  her  mother,  who  had  trained  her 
to  be  a  Christian ;  then  she  reminded  them  of  their 
own  mothers,  and  that  they  must  depend  upon  the 
same  Savior,  who  had  been  the  support  of  their  pa- 
rents. She  asked  if  any  among  them  were  moth- 
erless. A  number  raised  their  hands.  "  My  dear 
young  ladies,"  she  cried,  "you  of  all  others  most 
need  this  precious  Savior  and  Friend — you  who 
have  no  mother  to  love  and  guide  you."  Then, 
knowing  their  necessities  and  the  trials  that  would 
assail  them,  she  urged  them  to  make  their  life  a 
religious  one — not  in  selfish  seclusion,  but  among 
their  associates  and  in  the  world.  All  were  melted 
to  tears,  and  many  resolutions  to  lead  a  true  and 
noble  life  were  made.  At  the  close  of  the  service, 
Aunt  Lizzie  stood  in  the  doorway  and  spoke  to 
each  of  the  sixty  girls  as  they  passed  out,  repeating 


LABOES  MANIFOLD.  211 

to  each  a  special  promise  from  the  Scriptures.  Her 
wonderful  familiarity  with  the  Bible  is  shown  by 
her  ability  thus,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  to  re- 
call sixty  different  texts  applicable  to  the  occasion. 

At  another  time  she  visited  Illinois  Female  Col- 
lege, where  she  gave  an  address  of  such  power  and 
unction,  that  one  soul,  at  least,  was  saved  by  it. 
The  same  evening  she  received  a  note  from  one  of 
the  professors,  calling  upon  her  to  rejoice  with  him 
over  the  conversion  of  his  daughter,  who  had  been 
led  to  decide  for  Christ,  by  Aunt  Lizzie's  tender  en- 
treaties. 

While  Aunt  Lizzie  might  be  classed  among  the 
home-missionaries,  her  sympathies  have  never  been 
confined  to  her  particular  field.  She  has  always 
been  an  enthusiastic  supporter  of  foreign  missions. 
Though  she  has  not  been  able  to  carry  the  story  of 
the  cross  to  the  heathen,  she  has  given  of  her  small 
income  to  help  those  who  have  gone,  and  has  sent, 
at  least,  one  of  her  "  dear  girls,"  to  represent  her  in 
the  East.  When  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  she  at- 
tended a  meeting  in  Auburn,  New  York,  where 
Mrs.  Wade,  a  missionary  to  Burmah,  presented  the 
claims  of  the  vast,  dark  East  to  the  pity  and  aid  of 
Christians.  Lizzie  had  no  money  in  her  pocket,  but 
when  the  collection  was  taken,  took  off  a  new  gold 
chain  from  her  neck,  and  put  it  into  the  basket. 
The  zeal  then  kindled  in  her  heart  has  never  died 


212       THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

out,  and  she  has  always  given  far  beyond  her  means 
to  this  object. 

Her  sending  a  representative  to  the  field,  came 
about  in  this  way.  One  day,  some  years  since,  she 
was  called  to  visit  an  orphan  girl,  who  was  very  ill, 
in  the  hospital.  Aunt  Lizzie  saw  that  she  had  a  fine, 
well  cultivated  mind,  and  a  noble  nature,  and  led 
her,  by  prayer  and  careful  instruction,  to  the  Savior. 
When  the  young  Christian  grew  strong  enough  to 
leave  the  hospital,  Aunt  Lizzie  found  her  a  situa- 
tion as  teacher  in  an  Orphan  Asylum,  where  she  re- 
mained for  some  time.  Afterwards,  feeling  herself 
called  to  work  more  actively  for  the  Master,  she  be- 
came first  a  home  missionary,  and  finally  went 
abroad  to  bear  the  glad  tidings  of  the  gospel  to  the 
benighted  women  of  India. 

Instances  might  be  multiplied  where  Aunt  Liz- 
zie's example  and  precepts  have  led  others  into  the 
same  blessed  labor  to  which  she  has  consecrated  her 
life.  She  counts  among  her  friends  several  ladies, 
connected  with  the  home  mission  work,  who  caught 
their  first  inspiration  while  visiting  the  poor  with 
her  in  Chicago. 

She  has  also  labored  quietly  for  many  years  in 
behalf  of  the  feeble  churches  of  onr  Western  country. 
Every  year  she  sends  a  box  of  clothing,  as  her  own 
special  contribution,  to  some  destitute  home-mis- 
sionary, and  has  procured  libraries  for  many  strug- 


LA  BO  US  MANIFOLD.  213 

gling  Sunday-schools.  She  has  bought  with  mon- 
ey given  her,  for  her  own  personal  needs,  by  army 
friends,  five  communion  sets  for  poor  churches,  and 
has  subscribed  for  benevolent  objects  an  amount  of 
money,  almost  incredible  when  her  circumstances 
are  considered.  Some  years  ago,  she  made  this  en- 
try in  her  journal,  "  I  have  been  privileged  during 
the  last  six  years  to  give  away  nine  hundred  dol- 
lars." 

Though  she  cannot  always  tell  where  she  will 
find  the  money  when  she  makes  her  subscriptions, 
they  have  never  yet  failed  of  being  paid.  How 
this  comes  about  will  easily  be  seen  from  the  fol- 
lowing extract  from  a  letter: 

"Last  Sunday  our  animal  collection  for  our  Bridgeport  Mis- 
sion School  was  taken.  Most  earnestly  did  I  pray  God  to  open 
the  hearts  of  the  people  to  supply  the  wants  of  the  church.  I 
signed  five  dollars,  trusting  in  God  for  the  money.  That  after- 
noon, when  on  my  way  to  visit  one  of  ray  sick  teachers,  I  was 
met  by  a  gentleman  and  his  wife.  He  is  not  a  Christian.  He 
handed  me  five  dollars  saying,  '  I  wish  to  pay  your  morning 
subscription.  Your  devotion  to  your  religion  reminds  me  of 
my  beloved  mother  now  in  heaven.'  God  grant  that  I  may 
lead  this  man  to  trust  in  his  Lord." 

It  may  not  always  be  best  to  subscribe  money 
for  benevolent  objects,  when  we  have  not  the  means 
to  pay  our  pledges,  still,  Aunt  Lizzie  has  tried  the 
plan  for  many  years,  and  has  found  that,  if  she  is 
willing  to  deny  herself  even  the  necessaries  of  life, 


214:      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

in  order  to  give,  she  is  seldom  obliged  to  do  so,  but 
the  money  is  provided  in  some  unexpected  manner. 
That  her  other  home  mission  labors  are  quite  ex- 
tensive, may  be  seen  from  the  following  extract 
from  her  diary,  which  refers  to  one  of  several  places 
where  she  has  helped  organize  Sunday-schools  and 

churches : 

"Saturday,  May  12th,  1877. 
1  'At  four  o  'clock  took  the  train  for  W.  Four  years  ago,  for  the 
first  time,  I  visited  this  people,  when  I  organized  and  estab- 
lished a  woman's  meeting.  Forty  ladies  were  present,  and 
pledged  themselves  to  sustain  it;  nobly  have  they  fulfilled  their 
word. 

"At  my  next  visit  I  started  a  children's  meeting,  which  has 
been  blessed  to  the  salvation  of  souls.  The  next  year  a  Bap- 
tist church  was  organized.  They  now  have  a  neat  little 
chapel.'' 

Nor  are  Aunt  Lizzie's  sympathies  restricted  to 
the  church.  As  we  have  seen,  owing  to  the  ill- 
health  of  her  mother,  the  care  of  the  family  de- 
volved upon  her  when  she  was  still  a  young  girl,  and 
she  was  prevented  from  obtaining  an  education. 
Her  intense  disappointment  and  regret  that  she 
could  not  gratify  her  thirst  for  knowledge,  has 
made  her  always  a  friend  and  helper  of  students. 
For  them  she  has  ever  an  encouraging  word,  and  a 
kindly  sympathy. 

She  was  in  Peoria,  earning  her  living  as  a  nurse, 
when  the  University  of  Chicago  was  founded.  Her 
little  farm  at  Brimfield  had  been  rented ;  five  cows, 


LABORS  MANIFOLD.  215 

belonging  to  her,  were  still  there.  She  had  been 
deeply  interested  in  the  University  from  the  very 
first,  and  when  an  agent  came  to  Peoria,  soliciting 
funds  for  its  support,  she  gave,  as  her  contribution, 
forty  dollars,  the  price  of  one  of  her  cows.  If  Aunt 
Lizzie's  purse  were  as  large  as  her  heart,  there 
would  no  longer  be  any  necessity  for  lamentation 
over  churches  in  debt,  or  unendowed  institutions 
of  learning. 

Yet  the  story  of  Aunt  Lizzie's  life  would  be  in- 
complete, if  it  did  not  include  her  arduous  labors 
after  the  great  fire  of  1871. 

On  the  fatal  Sunday  evening,  when  the  fire  be- 
gan, she  sat  in  church  with  her  friend,  Mrs.  Irons, 
who  was,  at  that  time,  living  in  Chicago.  The  next 
morning,  alarmed  for  her  safety,  Aunt  Lizzie  start- 
ed for  her  house,  but  met  her  flying  from  the  flames. 
Aunt  Lizzie,  being  less  excited,  saw  that  there  was 
no  immediate  danger,  and  persuaded  her  friend  to 
return,  and  together  they  succeeded  in  rescuing  a 
part  of  the  household  goods,  and  the  portrait  of 
Colonel  Irons.  Aunt  Lizzie  then  conducted  Mrs. 
Irons  to  a  place  of  safety,  and  went  on  her  way  to 
help  find  shelter  for  other  unfortunates. 

Tuesday  morning,  Aunt  Lizzie  went  to  the  Con- 
gregational Church,  on  the  corner  of  Washington 
and  Green  streets,  to  offer  her  services.  Mr.  Sni- 
der the  chairman  of  the  committee  for  feeding  the 


216      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

multitude,  at  once  appointed  her  to  superintend  the 
young  ladies  and  gentlemen,  who  were  busy  pre- 
paring meals  from  the  provisions  that  already  be- 
gan to  pour  in  from  neighboring  towns.  This  work 
she  continued  for  two  days,  seeing  that  the  tables 
were  supplied  as  quickly  as  they  were  cleared  by 
the  hungry  crowds  that  flocked  there  to  be  fed. 

On  Thursday,  the  committee  were  obliged  to  va- 
cate the  church,  which  was  needed  by  the  city  gov- 
ernment for  other  purposes.  They  decided  to  move 
to  the  Scotch  Presbyterian  Church,  and  Mr.  Snider 
announced  that  in  two  hours  and  a  half  they  would 
feed  the  people  at  that  place.  "Now,"  cried  Aunt 
Lizzie,  "  Jet  us  show  them  in  how  short  a  time  a 
regiment  can  be  moved."  All  worked  with  a  will, 
and  in  less  than  the  prescribed  time  two  hundred 
were  seated  and  eating  in  the  Scotch  Church. 

On  Saturday,  the  Second  Baptist  Church  was 
turned  into  a  hospital,  and  Aunt  Lizzie  was  called 
home  to  help  care  for  the  sick.  Here  she  worked 
with  the  other  ladies  of  the  congregation  for  nearly 
a  month.  The  main  audience  room  of  the  church 
was  converted  into  a  lodging-room;  the  Bible-class 
room  was  a  hospital,  and  the  infant-class  room  was 
a  refectory.  The  halls  were  full  of  provisions  and 
clothing.  All  winter  the  work  of  distribution  went 
on,  people  standing  in  long  lines,  even  in  the  se- 
verest weather,  to  receive  whatever  could  be  given 


LABORS  MANIFOLD.  217 

away.  Donations  came  from  all  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, and  still,  during  the  first  months  of  the  winter, 
Aunt  Lizzie  wrote  to  her  friends  only  to  apply  to 
them  for  aid.  Whatever  time  she  could  spare  from 
the  work  at  the  church  was  devoted  to  visiting  the 
sufferers  in  the  hastily  built  barracks. 

During  all  the  years  that  have  elapsed  since  Aunt 
Lizzie  left  Memphis,  she  has  been  followed  by  the 
friendship  and  kindness  of  her  "  soldier  boys  "  and 
their  families.  At  first  they  sent  her  frequent  gifts 
of  money,  but  finding  that  she  gave  it  all  away  in 
charity,  they  gradually  changed  the  form  of  their 
gifts,  and  now  send  her  articles  of  dress  instead, 
keeping  her  wardrobe  supplied  with  many  things 
that  she  would  not  think  of  buying.  By  number- 
lets  acts  of  kindness,  and  frequent  visits,  they  have 
proved  how  dear  she  is  to  their  hearts.  With 
"  Mother  Sturgis,"  she  maintained  a  correspondence 
for  some  years.  Five  years  ago  they  met,  for  the 
last  time,  in  Peoria,  and  parted  on  the  bridge  in 
Spring  street,  the  same  spot  where,  thirteen  years 
before,  they  had  pledged  themselves  to  labor  togeth- 
er in  the  hospitals. 
19 


CHAPTER  XII. 

PROMINENT    TRAITS. 

An  elaborate  analysis  of  Aunt  Lizzie's  cliaracter 
will  not  be  needed;  the  whole  story  of  her  life 
proves  that  she  is  no  ordinary  woman.  Still,  the 
salient  points  of  her  disposition  reveal  so  distinct- 
ly the  causes  of  her  success,  that  we  may  be  par- 
doned for  enumerating  them. 

Energy  that  never  tires,  and  enthusiasm  that  at 
times  seems  akin  to  genius,  are  tempered  in  her  char- 
acter by  rare  common  sense,  and  even  shrewdness. 
The  latter  trait  is  illustrated  in  an  amusing  manner 
by  the  following  incident:  An  old  gentleman  and 
his  wife,  former  friends  of  Aunt  Lizzie,  when  she 
lived  on  Rock  River,  called  upon  her  in  Chicago. 
They  surprised  her  by  saying  that  they  had  forsaken 
the  religion  in  which  they  had  formerly  believed,  and 
had  embraced  Spiritualism.  They  averred  that  she 
would  share  their  faith,  if  she  would  give  the  least 
attention  to  the  matter.  To  satisfy  them,  she  accept- 
ed their  invitation  to  accompany  them  to  a  seance, 
and  judge  for  herself.  In  a  darkened  room,  spirits 
(218) 


PROMINENT  TBAITS.  219 

of  the  departed  were  supposed  to  communicate  with 
their  friends.  Yoices  were  heard,  and  hands  were 
thrust  out  from  the  shadow.  One  of  the  latter, 
Aunt  Lizzie  was  told,  belonged  to  her  sister  Roxy, 
who  had  been  dead  for  twenty  years.  "  If  it  is  my 
sister's  hand,"  thought  she,  "  I  have  a  perfect  right 
to  take  hold  of  it."  Immediately  she  seized  it  in 
both  her  own,  and,  turning  to  her  aged  friends,  ex- 
claimed: "Do  spirits  possess  flesh  and  bones,  as  I 
see  this  creature  has?"  The  "spirit"  struggled 
to  free  itself  from  her  grasp,  but  Aunt  Lizzie  held 
it  firmly,  and  proceeded:  "The  Bible  says,  'flesh 
and  blood  shall  not  inherit  the  kingdom  of  God.'  " 
The  seance  broke  up  suddenly;  Aunt  Lizzie's  lack 
of  faith  prevented  any  further  spiritual  manifesta- 
tions. 

From  her  earliest  childhood  she  has  always  been 
distressed  at  the  sight  of  suffering,  and  has  been 
utterly  incapable  of  inflicting  it  on  even  the  mean- 
est creature.  Yet  so  intense  is  her  sympathy  and 
desire  to  help,  that  the  young  girl  who  indignantly 
rejected  her  father's  offer  of  a  new  silk  dress,  on 
condition  that  she  would  kill  a  turkey  for  dinner, 
stood,  as  a  woman,  by  the  soldier's  cot,  and  held 
his  hand,  that  she  might  help  him  endure  some 
painful  amputation. 

The  trait  of  her  character,  that  most  frequently 
gets   the  better  of  Aunt  Lizzie,  is   her  generosity. 


220      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

It  might  almost  be  termed  a  passion.  "Tell  me," 
I  said  to  her  one  day,  "what  became  of  all  your 
household  goods — you  had  such  stores  of  everything 
of  the  kind,  at  the  beginning."  "  O,"  was  the  an- 
swer, as  if  it  were  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world,  "  I  gave  the  greater  part  of  them  away." 

Mrs.  Irons  frequently  writes  to  her  such  words 
as  these  :  "My  sister  Lizzie's  tokens  of  love  are  in 
every  nook  and  corner  of  our  little  home.  My  eyes 
cannot  turn  in  any  direction  without  seeing  some- 
thing that  you  have  placed  there."  P>ut  the  most 
striking  instances  of  her  generosity  are  to  be  seen  in 
her  dealings  with  the  poor.  We  have  already  noted 
some  of  them.  We  will  give  one  more:  Coming 
home,  one  wet  night,  she  found  a  poor,  forlorn  girl 
waiting  to  see  her.  The  wretched  creature  had  no 
shelter,  and  was  clothed  in  rags.  As  she  told  of 
her  misery,  she  lifted  her  tattered  skirt  and  showed 
her  feet,  blue  with  cold,  and  encased  only  in  a  pair 
of  old  shoes.  Aunt  Lizzie  saw ' hanging  on  the 
clothes-horse  near  by,  a  pair  of  her  own  woollen 
stockings  just  ironed.  "Here,"  said  she,  "poor 
child,  put  these  on."  Her  landlady  remonstrated: 
"Aunt  Lizzie,"  she  exclaimed,  "  what  are  you  about? 
you  know  very  well  that  you  have  not  another  pair 
of  woollen  stockings  in  the  world,  except  those  on 
your  feet;  you  have  given  away  all  the  rest." 
"Never  mind,"  was  the  answer,  "she  needs  them 


PROMINENT  TRAITS.  221 

more  than  I;  God  will  provide.*'  The  poor  girl 
went  away  warmed  and  fed.  The  next  afternoon, 
Aunt  Lizzie  was  invited  out  to  tea.  During  the 
evening  her  hostess  showe  1  her  a  quantity  of  new 
clothing,  and,  seeing  in  the  corner  of  the  bureau 
drawer  a  pile  of  thick  woollen  stockings,  said,  "  Take 
two  pair,  Aunt  Lizzie,  these  were  knit  for  me  by 
a  kind  old  relative  in  the  country,  but  I  never  wear 
them."  Thus  the  Lord  returned  to  her  double  what 
she  gave  away. 

Her  energy  exhibits  itself  in  the  vigor  with  which 
she  prosecutes  her  work.  Rarely  indeed  does  her 
diary  record  a  day  spent  in  attending  to  her  own 
affairs.  IS  either  the  severest  weather,  nor  the  most 
untoward  circumstances  prevent  her  from  adminis- 
tering to  the  needy.  During  the  prevalence  of  the 
epizootic,  when  no  horses  were  seen  in  the  streets  of 
Chicago,  Aunt  Lizzie,  visiting  the  poor,  walked  a 
long  distance,  and,  when  too  weary  to  take  another 
step,  found  herself  far  from  home.  Help  was,  how- 
ever, at  hand ;  two  young  men,  members  of  her  own 
congregation,  saw  her  sitting  dejectedly  on  a  door- 
step, and  understanding  the  case  at  a  glance,  went 
for  a  buggy  and  dragged  her  home  themselves. 

In  seeking  for  the  cause  of  Aunt  Lizzie's  success, 
we  find  that  she  lives  a  life  of  faith.  She  most 
thoroughly  believes  that  if  God  gives  her  work  to 
do,  He  will  bestow  the  ability  to  perform  it.     Those 


222      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

who  have  heard  her  pray  must  have  felt  that  she 
has  the  utmost  confidence  in  God.  She  never  seems 
to  have  any  doubt  of  her  Guide,  or  of  His  interest 
in  her  as  an  individual.  This  gives  her  great  pow- 
er. Being  thoroughly  converted  herself,  she  can 
work  for  others. 

A  strong  religious  instinct  lies  at  the  very  basis 
of  her  nature.  From  her  childhood  she  has  de- 
lighted in  studying  the  Bible,  and  her  soul  has  been 
filled  with  love  and  reverence  for  God.  "  My  Sab- 
baths," she  writes  in  her  diary,  "  are  my  days  of 
delight.  The  other  days  of  this  short  life  seem 
like  a  passing  dream.  I  always  look  with  anxiety 
to  the  weather.  I  watch  the  clouds,  and  my  heart 
feels  easy  only  when  I  enter  the  sanctuary  of  the 
Lord.  I  ask  God  to  help  me  worship  Him  this  day, 
at  least,  with  an  undivided  affection." 

Joined  to  this  trust  in  God,  we  find  a  cheerful, 
courageous  disposition,  that  makes  the  best  of  every- 
thing, and  is  not  daunted  by  difficulties.  Great 
as  have  been  her  troubles,  she  does  not  brood  over 
them,  seldom  ever  mentions  them,  so  that  many 
persons  who  have  been  acquainted  with  her  for  years 
know  nothing  of  her  greatest  sorrow — her  long  sep- 
aration from  her  husband.  She  does  not  wear  her 
heart  upon  her  sleeve,  but  putting  her  own  griefs 
aside,  she  rejoices  in  all  that  is  good,  and  adapts 
herself  easily  to  the  circumstances  of  others. 


PBOMIXEXT  TRAITS.  223 

Physical ly,  she  has  always  been  a  woman  capable 
of  great  and  continued  exertion.  The  surgeons, 
with  whom  she  labored  in  the  hospitals,  often  re- 
marked the  steadiness  of  her  nerves  in  the  most 
trying  moments,  and  knew  that,  whoever  might 
flinch,  they  could  always  rely  upon  Aunt  Lizzie. 
This  nervous  strength  gives  her  the  power  of 
bringing  things  to  pass,  which  she  possesses  to  a 
remarkable  degree. 

Those  who  have  read  the  extracts  from  her  diary, 
in  some  of  the  chapters  of  this  book,  need  not  be  told 
that  Aunt  Lizzie  possesses  a  superior  intellect. 
Yet  these  excerpts  give  but  a  faint  idea  of  the  elo- 
quence with  which  she  sometimes  speaks  on  a  sub- 
ject which  excites  and  interests  her.  Aunt  Lizzie 
often  regrets  her  lack  of  education,  but  she  has  been 
endowed  with  gifts  that  education  could  hardlv  have 
enhanced. 

It  is  due  to  Aunt  Lizzie  to  say  that  it  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  that  I  drew  from  her  the  facts 
concerning  her  work.  She  invariably  began  to 
speak  in  praise  of  some  one  else,  and  had  to  be  con- 
tinually interrupted  with  the  question,  "  But  what 
did  you  do,  Aunt  Lizzie  ?"  or  with  the  remark, 
"  That  is  all  very  well,  but  I  am  trying  to  find  out 
something  about  yourself."  She  generally  answered 
that  her  mother  always  taught  her  not  to  speak  of 
herself.     The  principal  facts  recorded  in  this  book, 


2'2±      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

have  been  drawn  from  letters  written  to  her  nearest 
relatives  and  friends,  and  from  her  diary,  written,  in 
later  years,  for  no  eye  save  her  own. 

Only  once  during  her  twelve  years  in  Chicago, 
has  she  allowed  her  private  sorrows  to  interfere  with 
her  labors.  She  had  not  visited  her  widowed  moth- 
er for  many  years,  but  in  1S69  she  had  saved  suffi- 
cient money  to  take  her  to  Vermont,  and  had  made 
every  preparation  to  spend  her  short  vacation  at  the 
old  homestead.  But  her  sister  Laura  was  ill  in  Illi- 
nois, and  the  anxious  mother  wrote  that  she  pre- 
ferred that  Lizzie  should  care  for  her  sister.  Thus 
she  lost  the  last  opportunity  of  seeing  her  aged 
parent  on  earth. 

"When  Laura  had  recovered,  and  Aunt  Lizzie  was 
again  at  her  work  in  Chicago,  Mrs.  Atherton  could 
not  repress  her  longing  to  see  her  oldest  child.  She 
begged  her,  if  she  could  not  come  to  her,  to  write 
her  a  long,  comforting  letter.  The  aged  lady  was 
sitting,  apparently  in  perfect  health,  knitting  a 
stocking  for  her  absent  daughter,  when  the  letter 
was  handed  her.  She  read  it  through,  prayed  fer- 
vently for  her  child,  then  went  to  her  own  room,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  was  found,  by  her  grandchildren, 
in  a  dying  condition. 

Aunt  Lizzie,  as  she  started  on  her  day's  round  of 
visits,  met  the  post-man  at  the  door.  "When  he 
handed  her  the  black-edged  letter,  she  ran  back  to 


PROMINENT  TRAITS.  225 

the  old  lady,  with  whom  she  lived:  "  My  mother 
has  gone.  I  am  sure  it  is  my  mother,"  slie  cried. 
She  read  the  letter  on  her  knees,  and  spent  the  day 
alone  with  God.  The  last  earthly  prop  had  been 
removed,  and  she  was  overcome  by  the  most  poign- 
ant grief. 

Aunt  Lizzie  never  could  have  accomplished  half 
that  she  has  been  enabled  to  do  as  missionary,  but 
for  the  perfect  confidence  placed  in  her  by  the 
church  for  which  she  labors,  and  their  hearty  ap- 
preciation of  her  worth.  They  also  act  as  her  spe- 
cial guardian,  watching  over  her  tenderly  and  car- 
ing for  her,  knowing,  as  they  do,  how  completely 
she  ignores  herself. 

Her  own  love  fur  them  is  most  beautifully  ex- 
pressed in  her  journal,  on  the  occasion  of  a  severe 
illness:  "  How  I  have  enjoyed  these  few  days  at 
home.  All  my  thinkings  and  doings  are  now  with 
God.  He  is  my  all  in  all.  I  feel  such  a  sacred 
nearness  to  my  Savior.  I  lean  my  weary,  worn-out 
head  upon  Him.  What  a  privilege  thus  to  un- 
burden my  whole  heart — my  tried  and  weary,  my 
tempted  and  sorrowful  heart;  tried  by  sin,  tried  by 
Satan,  tried  by  those  I  love.  Precious  Jesus,  how 
amply  hast  thou  met  my  every  want,  and  cared  for 
all  my  necessities  of  body,  soul  and  spirit.  Thou 
hast  put  love  into  the  hearts  of  all  my  dear  sisters, 
who  are  so  tender,   and  kind,  and   loving   to  thy 


226      THE  STORY  OF  AUNT  LIZZIE  AIKEN. 

lonely  one,  bearing  with  all  my  many  infirmities, 
and  helping  me  patiently  to  endure  my  weaknesses. 
My  grateful  heart  blesses  Thee,  my  God,  for  plac- 
ing me  in  this  dear  church.  My  selfish  soul  longs 
to  breathe  out  its  last  moments  on  earth,  here  in 
the  bosom  of  this  church,  with  these  dear  sisters  to 
watch  over  me,  and  finally  to  close  my  eyes,  when 
I  shall  re-open  them  in  glory.  O,  to  be  there;  O, 
to  see  Jesus  face  to  face.  But  a  little  while,  and  1 
shall  be  forever  with  my  Lord." 


THE    END. 


Dr.  Gibson  is  a  champion  of  more  than  ordinary  skill." — Ga- 
zette, Cincinnati. 


The  Foundations 


OF 


Christianity. 

By  Ret.  J.  MONRO  GIBSON,  D.  D., 

Author  of  "  Ages  Befoee  Moses." 


Square  16  mo.,       ......       Price,  $1.00. 


"  Admirable  because  of  its  brevity  and  directness,  and  because  it  an- 
swers, without  any  theological  circumlocution,  the  objections  which 
modern  infidelity  puts  forth  so  pertinaciously."— Inquirer,  Philadelphia. 

"  The  book,  both  in  manner  and  matter,  will  be  found  to  be  just  the 
thing  which  many  thoughtful  yet  perplexed  persons  need  to  direct  their 
inquiries  and  resolve  their  doubts.  The  style  is  fresh,  vigorous  and  in- 
cisive."— Canada  Presbyterian,  Toronto. 

"  The  book  will  be  read  with  genuine  interest  by  any  one  who  thinks 
at  all  on  these  noble  themes,  and  Ave  are  sure  that  its  effect  will  be 
wholesome  and  powerful  in  removing  difficulties,  strengthening  de- 
fenses, and  establishing  the  spirit  upon  sure  foundations."— Observer, 
New  York. 

"  Dr.  Gibson's  book,  though  so  condensed,  is  admirable  in  method,  and 
vigorous  and  fresh  in  style,  throughout.  As  a  brief  and  popular  presen- 
tation of  the  fundamental  truths,  such  as  are  apt  to  expand  beyond  or- 
dinary ability  to  read  in  most  hands,  nothing  more  valrible  has  recently 
emanated  from  the  press."— Rev.  Dr.  II.  M.  Field,  in  the  Evangelist. 

"  The  treatment  is  masterly.  The  author  grapples  the  points  essential 
to  the  argument  with  courage  and  vigor,  and  in  a  style  notable  for  its 
trenchant  force,  sets  them  forth  in  convincing  light.  While  others  meet 
the  infidel  argument  more  on  the  skirmish  line,  Christian  people  will 
be  glad  to  see  one  like  Dr.  Gibson  bearing  down  upon  the  very  centre  of 
the  enemy's  position." — Rev.  Dr.  J.  A.  Smith,  in  the  Standard. 

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'A  very  careful,  as  well  as  a  very  able  book.  "—Spectator,  London. 


THE    STORY    OF 

Religion  in  England. 

By  Rev.  BROOKE  HERFORD. 


.,  391  Pages, Price,  $1.75. 


We  have  seldom  found  more  of  value  condensed  in  the  same  space.  It 
abounds  in  incident  and  short  biography,  so  interwoven  with  the  text 
that  it  brightens  every  page."— Inter- Ocean. 

"  I  have  examined  it  with  interest,  and  I  observe  with  pleasure  the 
kindly  manner  in  which  he  (the  author)  seeks  to  treat  of  those  from 
whose  opinion  he  may  seriously  differ." — Right  Hon.  W.  E.  Gladstone. 

"  If  mothers  should  read  this  book  aloud  with  their  children  about 
them,  they  would  find  it  the  best  text-book  for  teaching  English  history, 
and  the  growth  of  English  religion,  and  the  sweet  wholesomeness  of  our 
pure  mother  tongue,  which  they  could  by  any  means  lay  their  hands 
upon.  Never  was  a  story  written  which  was  more  worth  the  telling  to 
English  readers,  or  which  was  told  in  a  more  captivating  manner.  *  * 
The  author's  personal  creed  is  in  no  wise  betrayed  in  the  whole  course 
of  the  volume,  unless  it  be  in  its  broad,  gentle,  merciful  spirit."—  Tribune, 
Minneapolis. 

"  To  write  a  '  Story  of  Religion,'  even  'in  England,'  is  to  undertake  a 
most  invidious  task.  Many  will  be  ready  to  ask, '  Who  is  there  that  oc- 
cupies so  elevated  a  position  that  he  can  survey  such  a  subject  with  im- 
partial eyes  ?  Who  is  there  so  dispassionate  that  he  can  judge  impartially 
in  the  fiercest,  the  bitterest,  the  most  entangled  of  all  human  controver- 
sies? Is  his  stand-point  to  be  within  or  without  the  Christian  commu- 
nity? If  he  be  without,  every  section  will  join  in  denying  his  compe- 
tence ;  and  if  he  be  within,  every  section  but  his  own.  Earnestness  of 
belief  is  essential  to  the  sympathy,  without  which  no  history  can  be 
complete,  and  at  the  same  time  is  scarcely  consistent  with  that  which  is 
of  equal  importance— the  judicial  temper.  These  difficulties,  like  those 
which  seem  to  beset  religious  teaching,  are  more  formidable  in  theory 
than  in  practice.  Mr.  Herford,  anyhow,  has  overcome  them  with  re- 
markable success.  *  *  *  We  have  to  thank  Mr.  Herford  for  a  very 
careful,  as  Avell  as  an  able  book."— The  Spectator,  London. 

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This  book  places  its  author  at  once  among  the  'gifted  few.'  " 
—  Sat.  Eve.  Herald. 


Belle  and  the  Boys. 

By  Mrs.  CAROLINE  FAIRFIELD  CORBIN, 

AUTHOR  OF  "REBECCA;   OR,  A  WOMAN'S   SECRET." 


J»  mo.,  24S  Pages, Price,  $1.25. 


"  A  brightly  written  story,  in  which  is  told  how  well  one  of  the  clearest 
headed,  sweetest  tempered  girls  of  sixteen,  took  care  of  her  younger 
brothers  in  the  absence  of  the  parents.  They  were  real  boys,  and  made 
her  a  deal  of  trouble,  but  the  result  was  a  triumph."— Springfield  {Mass.) 
Republican. 

"  Mrs.  Corbin  is  so  well  known  as  a  writer  of  more  than  ordinary  ability 
that  it  is  with  pleasure  that  we  greet  any  effort  from  her  pen,  and  the 
young  people  who  are  so  fortunate  as  to  read  this  story  have  a  rare  treat 
in  store.  Sure  are  we,  from  experience,  that  they  will  not  lay  the  book 
down  till  they  have  finished  it."— The  Interior. 

"A  story  book  for  young  folks  which  shall  be  entertaining,  yet  free 
from  sensationalism,  and  sprightly  without  slang,  is  a  book  to  be  hailed 
with  pleasure  by  those  who  cater  for  the  young  folks.  Such  a  book  Mrs. 
Corbin  has  produced  in  '  Belle  and  the  Boys.'  We  cordially  commend 
the  book  as  one  that  will  both  charm  and  profit  the  young  folks."— Ihe 
Living  Church. 

"  There  is  such  a  vast  amount  of  trash  published  under  the  name  of 
juvenile  books,  that  it  is  refreshing  to  find  such  a  one  as  this  to  place  in 
the  hands  of  our  young  people.  *  *  *  It  seems  just  the  book  to  be 
appreciated  by  fair,  sweet  young  girls,  and  brave,  manly  boys.  Hand- 
somely.printed  and  illustrated,  it  is  one  of  the  prettiest  juvenile  books  of 
the  year."— A  m.  Boo  York. 

"A  book  which  teaches  lessons  of  patience,  generosity  and  honesty  in 
a  charming  way.  The  story  is  told  with  vivacity  and  not  a  little  natural- 
ness, although  Belle  is  perhaps  a  little  too  womanly  for  her  age.  But  she 
is  such  a  winning  creature  that  we  easily  forgive  this  fault,  and  are  sure 
that  the  fine  tone  of  the  story  and  its  unobtrusive  lessons  cannot  fail  to 
have  a  wholesome  effect  on  young  leaden."— Evening  Mail,  New  York. 

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It  is  calm,  dignified,  scholarly,  and  fair   throughout." — The 

Tribune. 


INGERSOLL  AND  MOSES, 

A    REPLY. 

Br  Prof.  SAMUEL  IVES  CURTISS,  D.  D., 

AUTHOR'OF  "  THE  LEVITICAL  PRIESTS,"   ETC. 


12  mo.,  118  Pages, Price,  $1.25. 


"  Dr.  Curti-s  lias  done  his  work  well,  and  has  shown  his  opponent  to  be 
equally  destitute  of  scholarship  and  f&irness."— Gazette,  Cincinnati. 

"  It  concedes  the  power  of  his  wit,  eloquence,  and  sarcasm.  It  takes 
up  his  assertions  and  assumptions  seriatim,  and  shows  how  false  and 
wicked  they  are."—  The  Advance. 

"  Prof  Curtiss  has  done  very  thorough  work,  and  no  fair  minded  reader, 
even  if  opposed  to  Christianity,  can  deny  i:s  candor,  accuracy  or  com- 
pleteness."— Congregationalist,  Boston. 

"  Curtiss  criticises  Ingersoll  in  a  gentlemanly  and  scholarly  manner. 
The  work  claims  to  answer  the  sophisms  of  the  scoffer  in  good  and  whole- 
some style.  And,  after  reading  the  work,  we  say  he  has  succeeded."— 
Methodist,  Xeiv  York. 

"  This  is  the  most  complete  and  thorough  of  all  the  replies  to  Ingersoll 
that  have  appeared.  The  author  shows  that  Ingersoll  is  ignorant  on 
many  of  the  points  he  treats,  and  convicts  him  of  the  greatest  error  on 
almost  all  the  topics  he  discusses." — New  Covenant. 

"  Prof,  Curtiss  gives  in  this  able  treatise,  a  calm,  elaborate  answer  in 
detail  to  all  the  charges,  sneers  and  denunciations  found  in  Mr.  Inger- 
soll's  notorious  oration  upon  the  '  Mistakes  of  Moses.'  It  seems  almost  to 
dignify  the  attack  too  much  to  devote  such  careful  scholarship  and  ear- 
nest thought  to  its  review  and  overthrow.  He  has,  however,  done  his 
work  thoroughly  and  effectually."— Zion's  Herald,  Boston. 

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"An  exceeding//  interesting  narrative  of  an  extraordinary  fife." 
—The  Standard. 


LIFE  OF  BENEDICT  ARNOLD 

His  Patriotism  and  his  Treason. 

By  Hon.  I.  N.  ARNOLD, 

AUTHOR  OF  "  LIFE  OF  ABRAHAM  LINCOLN." 


Crown,  8vo.,  tvith  Portrait,  .  .  .  Price,  $2.50. 


This  Life  of  Arnold  is  full  of  new  facts,  now  first  given  to  the  public. 
Manuscripts  from  the  family  of  Arnold,  in  England  and  in  Canada,  and 
the  Shippen  manuscripts,  have  enabled  the  author  to  make  new  contri- 
butions to  Revolutionary  history  of  great  interest.  The  unpublished 
manuscripts  of  General  Schuyler,  to  which  the  author  has  had  access, 
has  thrown  new  light  upon  the  expedition  to  Canada  and  the  campaign 
against  Burgoyne.  The  author  does  not,  to  any  extent,  excuse  Arnold's 
treason,  but  aims  to  do  full  justice  to  him  as  a  soldier  and  patriot.  F(3r 
Arnold,  the  traitor,  he  has  no  plea  but  "  guilty ; "  for  Arnold,  the  soldier 
and  patriot,  he  asks  a  hearing  and  justice. 

"  The  biographer  discriminates  fairly  between  Arnold's  patriotism  and 
baseness ;  and  while  exhibiting  the  former  and  the  splendid  services  by 
which  it  was  illustrated,  with  generous  earnestness,  does  not  in  any  de- 
gree extenuate  the  turpitude  of  the  other.— Harper's  Monthly. 

"  The  public  is  the  gainer  (by  this  book),  as  additional  light  is  thrown 
on  the  prominent  actors  and  events  of  history.  *  *  *  Bancroft  erro- 
neously asserts  that  Arnold  wa^  not  present  at  the  first  battle  of  Saratoga. 
Upon  this  point  the  author  has  justice  and  right  on  his  side,  and  to 
Arnold,  rather  than  to  Gate>,  the  success  of  this  decisive  campaign  seems 
greatly  attributable."— New  England  Historical  and  Genealogical  Register. 

"After  a  careful  perusal  of  the  work,  it  seems  to  us  that  Mr.  Arnold  has 
accomplished  his  task  wond-rfully  well.  *  *  *  It  is  rarely  that  one 
meets  in  the  pages  of  biographical  literature  a  nobler  woman  than  was 
the  devoted  wife  of  Benedict  Arnold ;  she  mourned  his  fallen  greatness, 
but  even  in  hi3  ignominity  was  faithful  to  the  vows  by  which  she  had 
sAVorn  to  love  and  care  for  him  until  death."—  Traveller,  Boston. 

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TALES  FROM  FOREIGN  TONGUES, 

COMPRISING 

MEMORIES;  A  story  of  German  love. 

By  MAX  MULLER. 

GRAZIELLA ;  a  story  of  Italian  love. 

By  A.  DE  LAMARTIXE. 

MARIE :    a  story  of  Russian  love. 

By  ALEX.  PUSHKIN. 

MADELEINE ;  A  story  of  French  love. 

By  JULES  SAXDEAU. 


In  neat  box,  per  set,        .....        JPrlee,  $6.00. 
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Of  "Memories'  the  London  Academy  says:  "It  is  a  prose  poem. 
*  *  *  It  is  Beldom  that  a  powerful  intellect  produces  any 

work,  however  small,  that  does  n->t  bear  some  marks  of  its  special  bent, 
and  the  t;ac»  s  of  research  and  philosophy  in  this  little  story  are  appar- 
ent, while  its  beauty  and  r>athos  show  us  a  fresh  phase  of  a  many  sided 
mind,  to  which  we  already  owe  large  debts  of  gratitude." 

Of"  Graziella"  the  Chicago  Tribune  says:  "It  glows  with  love  of  the 
beautiful  in  all  nature.  *  *  *  It  is  pure  literature,  a 

perfect  story,  couched  in  perfect  words.  The  sentences  have  the  rhythm 
and  flow,  the  sweetness  and  tender  fancy  of  the  original.  It  is  uniform 
with  '  Memories.' and  it  should  stand  side  by  side  with  that  on  the 
shelves  of  every  lover  of  pure,  strong  thoughts,  put  in  pure,  strong 
words.    '  Grazieila'  is  a  book  to  be  loved." 

Of  "  Marie"  the  Cincinnati  Gazette  says:  "  This  is  a  Russian  love  tale, 
written  bv  a  Russian  poet.  It  is  one  of  the  purest,  sweetest  little  narra- 
tives that'we  have  read  for  a  long:  time.  It  is  a  little  classic,  and  a  Russian 
classic,  too.  That  is  one  of  its  charms,  that  it  is  so  distinctively  Rusdan. 
We  catch  the  very  breezes  of  the  steppes,  i  nd  meet,  face  to  face,  the  high- 
souled,  simple  minded  Russian." 

Of "  Madeleine"  the  New  York  Evening  Telegram  says:  "  More  than 
thirty  years  ago  it  received  the  honor  of  a  prize  from  the  French 
Academy  and  has  since  almost  be  ome  a  French  classic.  It  abounds 
both  in  pathos  and  wit.  Above  all  it  is  a  pure  story,  dealing  with  love 
of  the  m  st  exalted  kind,  it  is,  indeed,  a  wonder  that  a  tale  bo  fresh,  so 
sweet,  so  pure  as  this  has  not  sooner  been  introduced  to  the  English- 
speaking  public." 

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SHORT  HISTORY  OF  FRANCE, 

FOR  YOUNG  PEOPLE. 

By  MISS  E.  S.  KIRKLAND. 

AUTHOR  OF  "SIX  LITTLE  COOKS,"   "  DORA'S  HOUSEKEEPING,"  ETC. 


12mo.,  extra  cloth,  black  and  gilt,  ,  •  Price,  $1.50. 


"A  very  ably  written  sketch  of  French  history,  from  the  earliest  times 
to  the  foundation  of  the  existing  Republic."—  Cincinnati  Gazette. 

"  The  narrative  is  not  dry  on  a  single  page,  and  the  little  history  may 
be  commended  as  the  best  of  its  kind  that  has  yet  appeared."— Bulletin, 
Philadelphia. 

"A  book  both  instructive  and  entertaining.  It  is  not  a  dry  compen- 
dium of  datas  and  facts,  but  a  charmingly  written  history." — Christian 
Union,  New  York. 

"After  a  careful  examination  of  its  contents,  we  are  able  to  conscien- 
tiously give  it  our  heartiest  commendation.  We  know  no  elementary 
history  of  France  that  can  at  all  be  compared  with  it."— Living  Church. 

"A  spirited  and  entertaining  sketch  of  the  French  people  and  nat:on 
—one  that  wilJ  seize  and  hold  the  attention  of  all  bright  bovs  and  girls 
who  have  a  chance  to  read  it."— Sunday  Afternoon,  Springfield',  {Mass.) 

"  We  find  its  descriptions  universally  good,  that  it  is  admirably  simnle 
and  direct  in  style,  without  waste  of  words  or  timidity  of  opinion.  The 
book  represents  a  great  deal  of  patient  labor  and  conscientious  study.  — 
Courant,  Hartford,  Ct. 

"  Miss  Kirkland  has  composed  her  'Short  Historv  of  France'  in  the 
way  in  which  a  history  for  young  people  ought  to  be  written  ;  that  is,  she 
has  aimed  to  present  a  consecutive  and  agreeable  story,  irom  which  the 
reader  can  not  only  learn  the  names  of  kings  and  the  succession  of 
events,  but  can  also  receive  a  vivid  and  permanent  impression  as  to  the 
characters,  modes  of  life,  and  the  spirit  of  different  periods."— J/te 
Aatitjn,  N.  Y. 

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It  ought  to  be  in  the  hands  of  every  scholar  and  of  every  school- 
boy."— Saturday  Review,  London. 


Tales  of  Ancient  Greece. 

By  the  REV.  SIR  G.  W.  COX,  Bart.,  M.A., 
Trinity  College,  Oxford. 


12mo.,  extra  cloth,  black  and  gilt,        .  •  .        Price,  $1.69. 


"  Written  apparently  for  young  readers,  it  yet  possesses  a  charm  of 
manner  which  will  recommend  it  to  all."— The  Examiner,  London. 

"  It  is  onlv  when  we  take  up  such  a  hook  as  this,  that  we  realize  how 
rich  in  interest  is  the  mythology  of  Greece."— Inquirer,  Philadelphia. 

"Admirable  in  style,  and  level  with  a  child's  comprehension...  These 
versions  might  well  find  a  place  in  every  family."— The  Nation,  Zew  York. 

"  The  author  invests  these  stories  with  a  charm  of  narrative  entirely 
peculiar.    The  book  is  a  rich  one  in  every  way."—  standard,  Chicago. 

"In  Mr.  Cox  will  be  found  yet  another  name  to  be  enrolled  among 
those  English  writers  who  have  vindicated  for  this  country  an  honorable 
rank  in  the  investigation  of  Greek  history."— Edinburgh  Review. 

"  It  is  doubtful  if  these  tales,  antedating  history  in  their  origin,  and  yet 
fresh  with  all  the  charms  of  youth  to  all  who  read  them  for  the  first  time, 
were  ever  before  presented  in  so  chaste  and  popular  form."— Golden  Rule, 
Boston. 

"The  grace  with  which  these  old  tales  of  the  mythology  are  retold 
makes  them  as  enchanting  to  the  young  as  familiar  fairy  tales,  or  the 
'Arabian  Nights.'  *  *  *  We  do  not  know  of  a  Christmas  book  which 
promises  more  lasting  pleasures."— Publishers'  Weekly. 

"  Its  exterior  fits  it  to  adorn  the  drawing-room  table,  while  its  contents 
are  adapted  to  the  entertainment  of  the  most  cultivated  intelligence.    * 

*  *  The  book  is  a  scholarly  production,  and  a  welcome  addition  to  a 
department  of  literature  that  is  thus  far  quite  too  scantily  furnished."— 
Tribune,  Chicago. 

Sold  by  booksellers,  or  mailed,  post  paid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 
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••Unequalled  by   anything   of    the  kind  with  which    we   are    ac~ 
quainted." — Christian  Advocate,  X.  Y. 


CUMNOCK'S   CHOICE   EEADINGS. 

FOR     TURLIC    AND    PRIVATE     ENTERTAINMENT.       ARRANGED    FOR    THE 
EXERCISES    OF    THE    SCHOOL  AND    COLLEGE   AND    PUBLIC    READER, 
WITH      ELOCUTIONARY      ADVICE.  EDITED      BY      ROBERT 

MC'LAIN     CUMNOCK,      A.      M.,     PROFESSOR      OF 
RHETORIC    AND    ELOCUTION,   NORTH- 
WESTERN   UNIVERSITY. 


Large  12 mo.,  cloth, Price,  $1.75. 


"  It  ought  to  become  a  special  favorite  among  school  and  college 
students  and  p  lblic  readers." — Evening  Pout,  Nt  w  York. 

"  Taking  into  account  the  admirable  type,  the  excellent  taste,  the 
brevity  of  the  rhetorical  counsels,  the  unsurpassed  variety,  we  prefer 
Prof.  Cumnock's  book  to  every  manual  of  the  kind."— Christian  Register, 
Boston. 

"Among  the  multitude  of  books  issued  for  the  same  purpoce  during 
the  past  ten  years,  we  know  of  m.ne  so  complete  in  all  respects  and  so 
well  fitted  to  the  needs  of  the  elocu  ionist  as  the  volume  before  us." — 
Transcript,  Boston. 

"  No  choicer  casket  of  prose  and  poetry  has  been  given  to  us  by  any 
other  author.  These  are  the  culled  flowers  from  the  bouquet  of  litera- 
ture. They  are  of  every  nature  known  to  the  language,  and  each  is  of 
the  best  of  its  kind."—  The  Post,  San  Francisco. 

"  Nearly  200  selections  from  the  best  prose  and  poetical  literature  of 
the  English  language  are  here  assembled   fez  the  usea  of  the  student  <>f 

elocution.  *  *  »  The  collection  is  valuable  as  a  treasury  of 
literary  gems,  apart  from  its  worth  as  a  manual  of  declamation. '— 
Tribune,  Chicagj. 

"The  volume  consist*  in  a  great  measure  of  fresh  specimens  that 

have  recently  found  their  way  into  current   literature  and  present  the 

charm  of  novelty  with  the  merit  of  good  writing.    The  ancient  stream  is 

I  with  supplies  from  new  fountains,  and  living  productions 

take  the  place  Of  the  veteran  [pieces  which   have  grown  Old  in  the  i  nurse 

of  protracted  service.      *      *      *       They  are  Illustrations  of  the  best 

literature  of  the  day.*—  Tribune,  New  York. 

Sold  by  booksellers,  or  mailed,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 
JANSKX,    HeCLUBG    ft    CO.,    Publishers    Chicago,    111. 


'It  is  as  Readable  as  'Uncle  Tom's  Cabin/  "—Methodist  Recorder, 
Pittsburgh. 

REBECCA; 

OR, 

A  WOMAN'S  SECRET. 

By    MRS.    CAROLINE    F.    CORBIN. 

AUTHOR    OF  "BELLE    AND    THE    BOYS,"    ETC. 


12mo.,  3S9  pages, Price,   $1.50. 


"  One  of  the  strongest,  most  thoughtful,  and  at  the  same  time  other- 
wise attractive  stories  that  have  lately  come  to  us."— The  Advance. 

"A  story  which  grasps  the  reader's  interest  at  the  first  page  and  holds 
it  to  tiie  last     *       *       *     a  work  of  intense  dramatic  power.  '—Interior. 

"  We  have  read  this  absorbing  story  through  with  a  sense  of  wonder, 
admiration  and  delight.  It  is  one  of  the -most  powerful  compositions 
that  the  age  has  produced."— Methodist  Recorder,  Pittsburgh. 

"This  novel  will  excite  unusual  interest  with  the  reading  public. 
The  work  is  characterized  by  thoughtful  earnestness  and  a  wise  liberality, 
and  will  exercise  a  wholesome  influence."—  Tribune,  Chicago. 

"  The  peculiar  features  of  the  '  woman  question'  are  touched  with  a 
rare  mingling  of  strength  and  delicacv  *  *  *  It  is  essentially 
a  woman's  book  about  women,  aud  an  interesting  story  besides."— 
Christian  Union,  Nexo  Yoi  k. 

"So  thoroughly  packed  with  good  things  is  this  volume— it  can 
scarcely  1  e  called  a  novel,  notwithstanding  its  title -that  to  take  time  to 
to  point  out  each  one  separately  is  entirely  out  of  the  question.  *  *  * 
Mrs.  Corbin  has  proven  herself  a  writer  of  more  than  ordinary  ability.— 
The  Times,  Chicago. 

"  It  is  a  book  of  great  power,  and  in  addition  to  its  thrilling  interest 
and  originality  as  a  story,  it  treats  the  Woman  Question  with  rare  deli- 
cacy and  strength.  Every  woman  who  reads  the  book  will  be  grateful  to 
the'author  for  the  grand  womanliness  of  each  of  its  women,  and  for  the 
contribution  its  temper  and  spirit  make  the  question  of  Woman's  Posi- 
tion.— New  Covenant. 

Sold  by  booksellers,  or  mailed,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 
JANSEN,    McCLURG    &    CO.,    Publishers,    Chicago,    111. 


'Its  value  is  Inestimable." — Home  Journal,  N.  Y. 


MOTIVES  OF  LIFE. 

By  PROF.  DAVID  SWING. 


Square  IGmo Price,  $l.CO. 


"The  work  is  remarkable  for  its  simplicity,  eloquence,  earnest 
thought  and  sincere  pleading  for  what  is  good  and  best  in  life."— Evening 
Post,  Hartford,  Ct. 

"Here,  as  everywhere,  Professor  Swing  writes  with  the  simplicity, 
the  earnestness  and  the  honesty  which  come  of  a  sincere  devotion  to  a'll 
that  is  best  and  noblest  and  purest  in  life  and  character."—  Evening  Post, 
N.  Y. 

"The  motives  discussed  are  'Intellectual  Progress,'— 'Home,' — 'A  Good 
Name,' — 'The  Pursuit  of  Happiness,'— 'Benevolence,'  and  'Religion'— 
six  in  all.  Throughout  the  entire  number  one  can  see  the  author  s  love 
of  a  quiet  hearth,  of  a  dreamy  reflectiveness,  and  of  a  practical  method 
of  life.  There  is  about  his  style  a  warmth,  a  beauty  of  imagery,  a  charm 
that  are  as  much  a  part  of  his  individuality  as  his  features  'are."— The 
linu.8. 

"  Prof.  Swing  is  one  of  the  strong  men  of  the  day,  possessing  strong 
reasoning  powers,  an  analytic  mind,  and  an  eloquence  with  both  tongue 
and  pen  which  have  given  him  a  wide  reputation.  In  these  brief  essavs 
he  admonishes  us  of  the  duties  which  lie  at  our  door,  and  describes  the 
rich  rewards  which  await  their  fulfilment.  All  readers  will  be  i  eneflied 
bv  their  perusal,  and  the  value  of  the  truths  conveyed  is  supplemented 
by  aesthetic  gratifica'ion  in  the  delightful  style  in  which  they  are  set 
forth.'-— Book  Bulletin,  Boston. 

"  The  vivacity  and  point  with  which  the  author  of  this  volume  is 
wont  to  set  iorth  the  cardinal  principles  of  social  ethics  and  religious 
aspiration,  recommends  every  fresh  production  of  his  pen  to  the  attention 
of  the  public.  *  *  *  One  of  the  most  remarkable  features  of 
Mr.  -wing's  writings  is  the  felicity  and  strength  of  their  illustrations. 
He  never  loses  himself  in  a  cloud  of  abstractions.  The  truth  which  he 
presents  is  a  ways  surcharged  with  freshness  and  vitality,  radiant  w  ih 
color  and  active  in  movement."—  Tribune,  N.  Y. 

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JANSEX,   McCLURG    &    CO.,  Publishers,    Chicago,    111. 


Sound,  Sensible,  and  Civilized."— The  Nation,  N.  T. 


Six  Little  Cooks, 

Or  Aunt  Jane's  Cooking  Class. 
By  MISS  E.  S.  RTRKLAND, 

Author  of  "Short  History  of  France,"  "  Dora's  Housekeeping,"  etc. 


12tno.,  with  Frontispiece,  ....         Price,  $1.00, 


"We  do  not  think  a  more  useful  book  for  girls  has  been  published."— 
The  Alliance. 

"  It  is  a  capital  cookery  book,  made  by  a  capital  story-teller."— San 
Francisco  Messenger. 

"  We  know  of  one  little  girl  who  thinks  it  a  wonderful  book."— Christian 
Register,  Boston. 

"While  it  is  really  an  interesting  narrative  in  itself,  it  delightfully 
teaches  girls  just  how  to  follow  practically  its  many  recipes."— &£.  Nicholas, 
New  York. 

"  This  book  is  the  result  of  a  happy  thought.  *  *  *  A  lucky  stroke 
of  genius,  because  it  is  a  good  thing  well  done.  It  has  the  charm  of  a 
bright  story  of  real  life,  and  is  a  useful  essay  on  the  art  of  cooking.— Times, 
New  York. 

"A  praiseworthy  versatility  enables  the  author  to  keep  Up  the  form  and 
the  interest  of  a  story,  and  how  by  a  picnic,  or  again  by  a  birthday,  or 
unexpected  company,  or  the  cook's  holiday,  or  the  mistress's  illness,  to 
furnish  a  pretext  for  the  intervention  of  the  '  little  cooks.'  The  conver- 
sations are  natural  and  sprightly,  and  Aunt  Jane"s  directions  plain, 
practical,  and  altogether  excellent." — The  Nation,  N.  Y. 

"  We  have  not  seen  in  the  whole  range  of  our  juvenile  literature  a  more 
useful  and  attractive  volume  for  girls  than  this.  It  has  the  charm  of  a 
lite-like  story,  and  the  practical  value  of  a  clever  essay  on  the  culinary 
art.  Aunt  Jane,  whoever  she  may  be,  is  an  accomplished  woman,  with 
an  unusual  talent  for  sprightly  writing  and  an  extended  knowledge  of 
the  subtle  and  skillful  ways  and  means  involved  in  the  management  of 
an  elegant  cuisine.  The  six  little  folks  to  whom  she  gives  lessons  in  the 
craft  ot  cooking,  are  real  little  folks,  carrying  on  a  lively  chatter  all 
through  their  busy  work,  just  as  little  folks  do  wherever  they  are— saying 
the  most  natural  things  in  the  most  unaffected  and  amusing  manner."— 
Tribune,  Chicago. 

Sold  by  booksellers,  or  mailed  post  paid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 
JANSEN,   McCLURG   &    CO.,    Publishers,    Chicago,    111. 


"Lively,  Interesting  and  Instructive." — Christian  Union,  2f.  F. 


DORA'S  HOUSEKEEPING; 

By  MISS  E.  S.  KTRKLAND. 

AUTHOR  OF  "SIX  LITTLE  COOKS,"    "A    SHORT    HISTORY    OF    FRANCE,"   ETC. 


12mo.,  u-tth  Frontispiece,  ....         Price,  $1.00. 


"It  ought  to  make  devotees  to  the  noble  art  of  cooking  of  those  who 
read  it—  Cincinnati  Times. 

"  Never  was  a  more  tempting  bait  thrown  out  wherewith  to  inveigle 
the  vast  tribes  of  little  girls  into  being  capable  women."— Times. 

"It  occupies  a  hitherto  untilled  field  in  literature,  and  girls  and  their 
mothers  will  be  equally  delighted  with  it."— The  Advance,  Chicago. 

"  It  is  intended  for  girls  in  their  early  teens,  and  so  appetizing  are  the 
recipes,  that  they  would  almost  turn  an  anchorite  into  a  cook.  In  short, 
one  can't  look  over  the  book  without  getting  hungry."— Tribune,  New 
York. 

"His  practical  as  well  as  entertaining,  with  its  directions  and  re- 
cipes, and  ought  to  find  a  good  many  interested  readers  among  the  little 
girls  who  are  anxious  to  grow  up  with  some  knowledge  of  housekeep- 
ing."— Post  and  Tribune,  Detroit. 

"  Wise  mothers  of  that  excellent  sort  who  make  the  household  a  well 
ordered  kingdom,  will  appreciate  the  worth  of  such  a  story,  and  its  fit- 
ness for  presentation  to  daughters  who  are  in  training,  after  the  good  old 
sensible  plan,  for  the  proper  performance  of  the  daily  duties  of  life."— 
Evening  Post,  New  York. 

"  The  story  does  not  flag,  either,  and  is  enlivened  with  some  good 
character-sketching.  The  housewifely  advice  is  sound,  sensible  and 
civilized.  We  cordially  recommend  these  two  little  books  ('  Dora's 
House-keeping"  and  "  Six  Little  Cooks')  as  containing  the  whole  gos- 
pel of  domestic  economy."—  The  Nation,  New  York. 

Sold  by  booksellers,  or  mailed,  'postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

JAXSEX,    KeCLURG    k    CO.,    Publishers,    Chicago,   111. 


It  contains   what   ought    to  be  known   in  regard  to  political 
economy  by  every  school-boy  and  voter." — The  Nation. 


THE  PKIMEK  OF 

Political  Economy. 

By  A.  B.  MASON  AND  J.  J.  LALOR. 


l'i  mo.,  Cloth, Price,  GO  Cents. 


"We  know  of  no  other  work  anywhere  of  sixty  pages  that  begins  to 
give  the  amount  of  information  on  the  subject  that  has  been  put  with 
such  remarkable  clearness  into  these  sixty  pages."— Courant,  Hartford,  Ct. 

"  What  a  happy  thought  of  these  authors !  Certainly  every  young  man 
ought  to  read  this  work  carefully  and  before  voting  have  some  definite 
outlines  of  political  economy  in  his  brain.  The  work  has  been  prepared 
with  great  care  and  patient  research."— The  Me'hodist,  New  York. 

"  The  work  is  admirably  adapted  for  the  use  of  all  who  wish  to  get  an 
outline  of  economic  science,  but  have  not  the  time  or  patience  to  read 
more  elaborate  works.  *  *  *  The  primer  is  sound  and  plain,  and  The 
Times  can  recommend  it  as  a  better  elementary  text -book  than  any  other 
book  of  which  it  has  any  knowledge."— Times,  Chicago. 

"  For  a  short  and  comprehensive  treatise,  we  know-of  nothing  better 
than  ( TJie  Primer  of  Political  Economy.'  The  information  is  con- 
veyed in  a  very  concise  and  happy  manner.  The  style  is  perfectly  trans- 
parent, and  the  illustrations  admirably  chosen.  We  venture  to  believe 
that  not  a  quarter  of  the  men  in  the  lower  House  of  Congress  know  as 
much  about  Political  Economy  as  can  be  learned  from  this  compact  and 
interesting  little  treatise."— Christian  Register,  Boston. 

"  For  a  small  book,  Messrs.  Mason  and  Lalor"s  Primer  of  Political 
Economy  is  a  work  of  rare  value.  To  most  of  the  men  who,  during  the 
presidential  campaign,  make  a  desperate  effort  to  learn  (from  the  i.ews- 
papers)  what  are  the  real  political  issues  before  the  country,  and  what 
are  the  truths  underlying  them,  this  little  volume  will  be  more  useful 
than  any  hundred  or  thousand  editorials  they  may  stumble  upon;  in- 
deed, there  are  but  few  editorial  rooms  where  the  same  book  may  not  be 
studied,  with  benefit  to  the  editor  and  his  patrons."— Christian  Union, 
Nt  w  York. 

Sold  by  booksellers,  or  mailed,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 
JANSEN,  McCLURG    &    CO.,   Publishers,   Chicago,  111. 


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